The Sergeant
by KTyler
Summary: What if David had met the Princess while he was in the Army and stationed in Afghanistan? Stand alone story featuring the same Original Character.
1. Helos and Headaches

_Hi everyone! This story cross posted over at AO3, but I wanted to post it here too since I'm not sure if every is over there or vice versa. Let me know what you think!_

Sergeant David Budd barreled out of the armored transport vehicle, he didn't even get his gear; he was only focused on one thing. Jaw clenched, eyes blazing, he stalked toward the airfield. There were four helicopters on the wide swath of asphalt, hot wind blowing all around, kicking up sand. David squinted in the sun, looking toward where the beige Lynx was sitting on the sandy ground, it's rotors slowly winding down. Medics were bustling all around, soldiers weaving in and out as they headed off the makeshift airfield. Personnel, passengers, all heading different directions. That goddamn group of children that had almost cost them the operation pouring out.

David weaved through the crowd, his boots kicking up the red dust, hands in fists. He vaguely heard Andy shouting at him, running to catch up, but David was so angry, he didn't care. He was intent on finding the helicopter pilot and wringing the man's neck. On the opposite side of the aircraft, he found his prey. Two officers, in the process of packing up their gear.

"What the bloody fuck?!" David yelled, exclaiming wildly. The officers turned, both were lieutenants, and David stepped closer to the male. He was taller than David, with sandy blond hair and a slim build. David didn't wait for him to reply, just continued shouting. Andy came up then, and the female lieutenant unzipped her flight suit, tying the arms around her waist. Then, she crossed her arms over her chest, an unreadable expression on her delicate features as David continued berating her partner.

Andy was panting, catching his breath. The pilot moved in closer to David and started yelling back, a liberal use of curse words on each side. That straightened Andy up and he and the woman each took the arm of their respective friend, coming in to breakup the ensuing fight. The female lieutenant was slight, but feisty, and easily caught the attention of her blonde friend.

"Sarge, calm down." Andy tried, pulling at David. "I'm sure there's an explanation. Let him get a word in."

"Sure. Fine. Let's let him explain why he didn't take off _when I fucking ordered-_" David started again, but was interrupted. This time, by the female lieutenant, who stepped between David and her partner.

"First off, _Sergeant_." She started, grinding out his lower, enlisted, rank. A few of her ginger curls had escaped the tight bun her hair was in. "Matt wasn't the pilot, I was. Second, I don't take orders from you. Third, I'll call the op and leave the hot zone when I goddamn fucking please." She was right in David's space, her emerald eyes blazing, her mouth in a tight, angry line. She was at least six inches shorter than he was, but completely held her own. Her voice was clipped and tight, David couldn't make out the region of her accent, beyond that it was British.

"I don't know who the fuck you think you are _lieutenant, _but I'm the ranking enlisted in the regiment and-" David tried again, his blood boiling, but she cut him off once more.

"I don't give a fuck who _you _are!" she shouted. "I'm responsible for the aircraft and the passengers. I don't answer to some fucking twat who thinks he's-" she was ranting, gesturing wildly and David started yelling back, their insults unintelligible as they shouted at each other.

Finally, the tall lieutenant noticed that a crowd had formed, and he pulled at her.

"Els, leave it." The man said. He nudged at her, nodding at the bystanders. She stepped back, chest heaving with anger, pretty face flushed.

David stepped back too, realizing they were making a scene and getting nothing resolved. Andy flung an arm around his shoulder, but he shook him off, still seething.

"You better hope you don't fly my support again." He ground out, needing to get the last word.

"Go bugger yourself." With that, she turned on her heel, grabbing her flight gear from the helicopter and storming off, the other lieutenant following. So much for the last word.

_Note two: Any questions, let me know, I'll answer in next chapter's note._


	2. Wales and Chapman

David gathered his gear from the truck and followed Andy to the barracks. He was still piss mad and the confrontation with the red headed lieutenant had only made it worse. He always tried to maintain his cool; most especially in front of his troops, but the situation on the mission had done him in. It had spiraled quickly out of control and so did his temper.

They had completely disregarded his command from the ground, refusing to leave the extraction point until a group of refugees had boarded. Refugees that weren't vetted and could have been dangerous. The enemy was coming in and they had been running out of time, but they wouldn't take to the air despite his screaming over the radio.

A knock on his door got his attention and after telling the person to enter, Mikey walked in, a huge shit eating grin on his ugly face.

"Major wants you at command." His mate said, sitting on David's bed.

"This day is just getting worse and worse." David replied. "Let me take a fucking piss and we'll go." He ducked into the loo and Mikey kept talking.

"The whole base is talking about your pissing contest with the chippy pilot."

David came out, not replying. He didn't care what people said. He just clenched his jaw, eyes dark, and left the room, Mikey chuckling behind him. The other man continued on.

"No one can decide who won. She gave it to you pretty good. Must be pretty new on base; don't think I've seen her besides today. I'd remember-"

David walked into command, leaving the door to close in his mate's face to stop his yammering.

* * *

Lieutenant Eleanor Wales stomped off, leaving her copilot to scramble after her.

"Els, wait!" Matt called, juggling his gear. She stopped when they were a good way away from the airfield, swinging around, face pinched and angry.

"Who the fuck was that arsehole?" She asked, Matt just shrugged. They had both been on base a little over two weeks. They had been on leave, in Africa before that and Germany prior to that. "I wasn't leaving those civilians behind. Most were just children." She insisted, gesturing to the air.

"I know." Matt agreed. They had been a team for three years, Eleanor only a few months senior over him in rank. They were a great team and had each others backs. "You were right."

"I _know_ I was right." She insisted. "I can't get over-"

"Just let it go, Ellie." Matt cut in, knowing if he didn't stop her she would rant on for hours about the angry blue eyed sergeant. "This mission was a success. Fuck him and his attitude." She nodded and they walked on.

* * *

A day later, he saw her again. She was with the same lieutenant, laughing with a few more officers near the mess. He almost didn't recognize her; she had a cap and mirrored sunglasses on. David watched as she noticed him as well, the smile on her face completely fading away as her mouth turned into a tight line.

David looked away first and she went back to her group, biting the apple she had in her hand with perfect white teeth. He headed into the mess, pushing her out of his mind.

He saw her again, running laps at the jogging track. This time, she was with a woman and a different man. All three were out of uniform, so David couldn't identify their rank. The lieutenant was sweaty and red faced, the ginger curls shoved under an Aston Villa FC ball cap. Of course she had shite taste in football teams, too.

The third (fourth?) time he saw her was in the middle of the night almost a week after the mission. The claxons were going off all around the base. Everyone was hustling into formation, pulling on their uniforms, running for their vehicles and aircraft, weapons slung over their shoulders. She was there, tossing a tie line to the blond lieutenant as they prepped the helicopter for takeoff. She gave David a withering stare as he walked by, giving her a wide berth.

He been in Afghanistan for seven months. He hadn't seen her once before the altercation the other day. Now, he was seeing her everywhere. He hustled into the front of the armored truck, shouting orders through the radio in his helmet. They rolled out just as the helicopters flew over them, the two Apaches leading the way.

"Comm this is Lynx. Two klicks south of the extraction point." Her voice crackled over the radio. Great, David thought to himself. Now he had to hear her voice too.

"Apache one, sit-rep for Lynx." The base radioed back, checking if the coast was clear for landing. The Apache helicopter pilot replied that they were a go. The three armored vehicles David and his team were in stayed on the road as the helicopters continued, all but invisible in the night sky. When they approached the extraction point, the three vehicles split up, providing cover.

The big tan chopper landed after one last check, the down force of the rotors kicking up the sand and brush. Five figures came out of nowhere, armed, but in uniform, staying low to the ground as they hustled into the open hatch.

"Package secured." Her voice crackled again. "Lynx go for takeoff."

"Possible threat approaching due west." The Apache pilot radioed in.

David's team all looked west. They could make out faint movement, but it was too dark and too far away, even with night vision. None of the vehicles had their headlights on as it was safer during an extraction. Less attention drawn their way if it was dark.

"This is Lynx. Are we a go? We've got an injured man." Her voice was tight. The other helicopters, still circling, both replied that they had no sight on an enemy. David frowned; he had definitely seen something to the west when the pilot had indicated.

"Lynx this is ground support." David clicked onto the comm line, his deep, gravelly scots accent filling the line. "Negative for takeoff. I repeat, negative for takeoff."

"Copy ground support." She replied, clicking out. The rotors still moved, but the helicopter stayed on the ground.

"Apache one this is ground support. Light it up, due west." His deep voice rumbled over the radio. The Apache copied, and the area west of the Lynx was flooded with light. David commanded his men to ready weapons, the helicopter was at its most vulnerable right at take off and landing when the pilot was concentrating and the aircraft was low to the ground and within range.

"Eyes on anything? Anyone? We've got to get back to base." She clicked in, voice calm, but clipped.

Everyone took turns clicking into the line, giving the all clear. When David was satisfied, he waited a beat, making sure.

"Lynx this is ground support. You are a go." David radioed. The main rotor immediately turned faster and the helicopter lifted into the night sky. In the next second, the sky lit up from the southwest, a bright flame speeding toward the rapidly ascending helo. They all watched, eyes wide, but the rocket went right over, the helicopter hitting the ground with a deafening thud, the tail boom wobbling at the force, the rotor blades banging the top of the fuselage. Even the skids creaked, their thin metal slamming into the sand.

As soon as the missile passed, she had the bird in the air again, racing back to base, the ground and air support providing cover fire before the enemy could attack again. All safely inside the base, David and his men just sat, hearts racing.

"Everyone clear?" He asked no one in particular. Again, they took turns clicking in. One voice was missing. He knew she was fine; the tan chopper was sitting on the airfield as the medics unloaded the wounded man, personnel streaming around.

"Lynx is clear." It was Matt's voice, sounding a little shaky.


	3. Sand and Cigarettes

"That was insane." Andy was buzzing, walking to David's left as Mikey and the other men followed. They still had on their heavy gear, flak jackets and weapons, tromping toward the barracks. David's jaw was clenched, one hand white knuckled on the barrel of his firearm. Andy kept going. "She slammed that bird right to ground. Never saw anything like it. I bet-"

"Maxwell, Wales, Fraser and Budd. Report to command ASAP." Their radios crackled, cutting Andy off. David sighed, pushing his gear at his mate.

"Save me a pint or two." He implored Andy, taking a left toward the command building as the others continued on.

The three pilots were already there when David arrived, standing at attention in front of the Major. David shot off a quick salute and stood in line. The major spoke, commending them on a successful mission. He continued on, stating that the five American soldiers they rescued were going to make it and that the higher ups were pleased. He dismissed them all with a salute that was immediately, crisply returned.

"Wales!" One of the Apache pilots yelled out, and David watched as Eleanor stopped and turned back, eyebrows raised. "Come have a drink."

"Thanks, Fraser, but not tonight. I'm knackered." She replied. Fraser shrugged and turned back and the three men went on to the canteen.

"What's her deal?" David asked as they walked. He didn't really know Fraser, but Maxwell had been around a while.

"What do you mean?" Maxwell replied, looking at Fraser. Everyone on base knew her "deal."

"Where'd she come from?" David clarified, pushing open the door to the canteen. He nodded at Andy and the others, but hung back with the two pilots.

"She's been in country for three weeks, I think." Maxwell responded, hedging. "Stationed in Africa before here. I'm surprised she's good, but I heard her brother was one of the best Apache pilots we have, so maybe it runs in the family."

"She's not bad to look at either." Fraser added, and the two other men just walked away, Maxwell looking annoyed.

* * *

"Wales, hold up." David spotted her walking toward the comm center the next afternoon. She stopped, but frowned, eyes narrowing. She was in uniform, dusty boots, baggy desert camo trousers, ginger curls pulled into a tight plait. He could see the shiny chain of her dog tags peeking out. "How did you know they were still there?" David asked.

It had been bothering him all night. She had to have spotted the enemy; her reflexes wouldn't have been fast enough to cut the helicopter's engine and avoid the missile otherwise. His team and the Apaches hadn't seen a thing.

"One of them lit a cigarette." Wales replied simply, her eyes squinting in the bright sun.

"Bollocks." David said, crossing his arms, frowning. "No way you saw that."

"Don't believe me then. Your opinion doesn't matter to me." She pushed by him and entered the comm center, leaving him standing alone outside.

Never one to just leave it alone, David's boots climbed the metal stairs two at a time. He scanned the room and spotted her talking with a female private. She laughed, her face completely different from the angry expression she had given him.

"Thanks, Sam." She was saying, the young private nodding, a big smile.

"Tell your Da happy birthday from all of us." Sam said. Eleanor thanked her again and headed down to an empty internet cubicle and the private called David, who had inadvertently placed himself in line for a Skype terminal. Pulled out of his thoughts, David shook his head and headed back outside, pushing a hand through his dark hair. He wasn't going to bother her when she was talking with her family, on her dad's birthday. He sat on the metal steps, thankful for the shade of the corrugated roof.

David waited. He had no earthly idea why. He hated her. Her smug, pretty face. Her posh accent that sounded like music. Her curly ginger hair that was always pulled back from her face, so he could see those wide, cat-like green eyes that were always shooting daggers at him. She was pushy and stubborn; he had learned that from only two ops. He didn't have the time or patience to deal with an arrogant pilot who would disregard his orders.

He fiddled with his wedding ring. He knew he should take it off. He should tie it to a grenade and toss it into the desert. But then it would be done; eight years of his life wasted. Plus, no one on base knew; everyone thought he was happily married. A lucky bloke with the perfect family waiting back home. Not some poor sap whose kids barely remembered him and whose wife was fucking another man.

The metal door swung open and Eleanor came out. She stopped and did a double take when she saw him, her hand stopping halfway to her face as she put her sunglasses on. There was that scowl again.

"Why are you waiting for me?" She asked bluntly, annoyed. David stood so she wouldn't be looking down at him and then she had to look up, which annoyed her even more.

"I want you to show me how far they were last night."

"No." She said without hesitation. "Like I said; I don't care if you believe me or not. And I'm not in the mood to deal with you right now." She pushed the sunglasses on her face and made to walk past him. David took a firm step, blocking her way.

"Show me."

"No." She gave him a hard shove, deceptively strong despite her small stature, and stormed away.

Eleanor hated him. That cocky, handsome face. All sharp angles and movie star jawline. That rolling Scottish accent that always seemed to be yelling at her. His dark brown hair with lighter strands that caught the desert sun and those impossible ocean eyes. Why was he always right where she was? Everywhere she looked, those blue eyes looked back, his strong arms crossed over his broad chest, silently judging. She hated him and his know it all attitude.

She made it back to her room, flopping on the bed. She missed her family, her mates. She had fought to be sent in country to an active combat zone. Fought tooth and nail to get this chance, but she missed everything and everyone. Maybe what her dad had said just now was right. Make this her last deployment and come home. Start the new year with a new job. A fresh start, new purpose. Her brother's baby was coming soon and it would be nice to be a part of her little nephew and the new baby's life for more than a few months of the year.

Eleanor exhaled and laid back, her eyes catching the family photo on her bedside table. They had taken it last year in celebration of her grandmother. Everyone was in it, smiling wide for the camera. She had thought this was what she wanted; fly helicopters in the army, but now...she just missed home.

* * *

"It came from the southwest." David said to Andy. They had taken an armored truck out to the extraction point. He was forcing Andy and Mikey and their fourth man, Ron, to scour the desert. He knew she was wrong. There was no fucking way she saw the enemy light a cigarette. The four men searched in a grid, starting from where they were parked the night of the op, eyes covered in dark sunglasses, scouring the sand, weapons at the ready, just in case.

Andy complained the whole time, saying it was useless, why didn't David just take the lieutenant's word for it, it was hot, and on and on, until David got in his face.

"Just shut your mouth and find me something." He ordered, losing patience. Truthfully, he didn't want to be out there either, but he couldn't let it go. He wasn't giving in, admitting that she was right, but he sure as hell wasn't telling Andy that. He had to prove her wrong and he wasn't going back to base until he did.

After that, no one said another word; too scared of the murderous look on their sergeant's face. They got to work and soon found a set of tracks. A bit more searching, and Andy called David over, a huge smile on his face. As David jogged up, Andy slung his weapon over his shoulder and pointed to the sand. David looked down.

Unbelievable.

Eleanor was sitting next to Matt in the second row of the briefing room. They were mobilizing that night, doing a low ground recon mission for the Danish army. She had a pad in front of her, drumming on it with a pen while they waited for the major. David walked in and saw her immediately, her red hair like a beacon. Fraser was walking past her from the other side and said something. She smiled and Matt chuckled.

"Maybe if you learned how to fly a real chopper instead, Fraser." She threw a wadded up piece of paper at the man and the row of officers laughed. Matt nudged her with his elbow and both lieutenants turned to watch David approach, his boots thudding on the metal floor, long legs eating up the space. A hush went over the room, all joking forgotten as the two stared each other down. David didn't say a word. He just dug a clear, zip top bag out of one of the many pockets in his trousers and tossed it casually on Eleanor's notepad.

Inside were three cigarette butts.


	4. Pilots and Princesses

David was buckling the chin strap on his helmet when Eleanor approached him. Her flight suit was only halfway on, the arms tied tight around her waist, dog tags hanging over her snug beige tee shirt. He turned to face her, crossing his arms. He didn't bother with a salute, just a frown. He was annoyed she had been right. He didn't know why it bothered him so much, but it did.

"I accept your apology." She said, sticking her hand out at him. David just gaped at her. Andy, standing next to him, snickered. When he continued to just look at her, she pulled her hand back, shoving it in her pocket.

"I wasn't apologizing." David finally gathered his words. "I was just letting you know that you were right." Now it was Eleanor's turn to gape at him, her eyes wide.

"I knew I was right! I don't need you to confirm it!" She exclaimed. "God! You are an insufferable tosser!"

David had his mouth open to retort when she stormed away, plait swinging back and forth.

"You should just shag her." Mikey replied, a smirk on his face.

"Bugger off."

* * *

Back on base, showered and safe, David was trying to get a spot at a Skype terminal. He could still talk to the kids before bedtime if the two people in front of him hurried. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet and actually groaned in dismay as Eleanor came through the door of the comm center. She was in joggers and a navy hoodie with the red and gold Sandhurst insignia on the left side. Her hair was loose, the red curls wild like a lion's mane. David was frozen for a second and his palms started sweating. She had freckles on the bridge of her nose that he hadn't noticed before. She stopped, noticing him, frown appearing immediately.

"You went to Sandhurst?" He wasn't thinking. He knew he was staring and had said something, anything, so he wasn't just standing there like an idiot. Eleanor turned to him, eyes narrowing.

"Last I checked, I was an officer." She replied, agitated. "You do seem to forget that though. Just because I'm a woman doesn't mean I went to some bullshit army correspondence school."

"That's not what I meant." David swallowed, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"It's not?" She raised her eyebrows, daring him to explain, but he didn't, so she went on. "Let's see, then maybe my dad paid for my commission? Or my personal favorite, I'm playing at toy soldiers since I can't find a real job." She held up air quotes and David still just stared. He didn't know what he had done this time.

It was his turn at the terminals and he thanked his lucky stars to get away from her.

Eleanor got the next spot, next to him, and rung her family. She let it go a few times, but her father didn't answer and neither did her brother. They hadn't arranged to speak today, but she had hoped they would be available. Dismayed, she turned to go, but not before she caught some of the conversation next to her. Looking over, she saw two little faces, chubby cheeks and blue eyes beaming at the Sergeant. Their high pitched voices squealing with delight as he asked them questions.

His voice was softer, calmer as he spoke to them and Eleanor felt something shift inside her. She didn't know what it was. It made her miss her family immensely, but it also made her see him in a different light. His Scottish brogue was even thicker, his r's rolling even more and he was finally smiling. A big, wide smile that deepened those ocean eyes to an impossible blue.

Eleanor was the one waiting on the steps this time, her trainers squeaking back and forth on the metal, her hands in the pockets of her hoodie. His boots thudded behind her, stopping when he saw her.

"We should start over." She said immediately, turning to face him, but still fidgeting her trainer toe on the metal porch. David just looked at her, shoving his hands in his pockets as well. He raised an eyebrow, hoping she would elaborate. Sure enough, she continued. "We…I think we got off on the wrong foot."

"Aye, I think we did." He agreed. "It's...it's intense out here." David sat next to her, stretching his long legs down the steps and into the sand. They were both quiet for a bit, watching people walking by.

"How old are your children?" Her voice was quiet when she spoke again.

"Ella's six and Charlie's two." David sat next to her. He didn't understand why she was asking, but he didn't mind answering. Talking about the kids made him feel human again.

"When did you see them last?"

"Six...seven months." He counted in his head.

"I've never been deployed that long."

David just shrugged, not wanting to tell her that it was different for enlisted. They didn't force you home and if you were good at what you did, they didn't want to lose you to civilian life. He knew she would bristle at that, that he was pointing out the differences, somehow saying she wasn't as good as him.

"Isn't it hard? I miss my family every minute and I don't have children." She turned toward him, those wide eyes wondering.

"I'm used to it." He replied. Boots thudded behind them and he moved over so the person could get down the stairs. His shoulder was touching hers. "Not seeing them at all somehow makes it easier." He didn't add that he tried to push them out of his mind, forget about them entirely and just focus on the infinite desert and one op at a time.

"You didn't get to talk to your family?" David asked, hoping to get the subject off of himself. She shook her head, a curl falling forward. She pushed it back behind her ear and spoke.

"They're really busy, but the 14th was my father's birthday and I talked to everyone then since they were together. I'll try again in a few days. Maybe try my brother."

He asked her how many siblings she had and she looked at him funny, that scowl back. He always seemed to be saying the wrong thing around her.

"You...you don't know who I am?" She asked him, her brow furrowed.

"I know you're a massive pain in the arse." David replied. She rolled her eyes and David detected the tiniest hint of a smile. "Who are you? An MPs daughter?" That's all he could come up with, what with the posh accent, the strange conversation with Maxwell the other night and now the Sandhurst hoodie.

Eleanor shook her head and dug in the hoodie pocket. She pulled out her id badge in it's shiny plastic holder with the little metal clip. Turning it over, David saw she had wedged a blank piece of paper behind the ID, same as they all had. Pushing it out and flipping it over, she handed the photo to him.

"That's not you." David stared at the photo. It was dark, but there were lights on the comm center exterior. Still, he had to hold the photo close to his face. She didn't say anything, just let him look at the picture and work it out. He looked back at her and then back at the picture.

It was her. And her father and her two brothers, whom she was standing between, their arms over her shoulders. All the siblings had the same smile, Eleanor and Harry sharing that curly, ginger hair. He handed it back to her and she slid it back into the id where no one would see it.

"I'm going to call you princess now instead of the other names I had for you." He smiled. Her face fell and she stood.

"You can't. This is really important to me. I'm here twelve weeks. That's all they would let me have and if anyone outside base finds out, they'll pull me out early." She spoke fast, breathless. David stood too, his hands back in his pockets.

"Surely others recognized you?" David asked.

"Everyone knows me." She agreed. "I thought you did too and that's why you were being such a bugger." David frowned at that, but she went on. "It's just that if it becomes a big deal-"

"I won't tease you, I promise. I won't take it easy on you either." David said, cutting her off.

"I wouldn't want you to." Eleanor smiled again and stepped away. David swore she winked.

* * *

Eleanor headed back to her room, chastising herself. He was married and probably still an arsehole. She shouldn't be winking at him. She shouldn't even be talking to him. She had plenty of mates on base, didn't need another. She pulled off her sweatshirt and trainers, grabbed a book and settled into bed. The book was open, but she couldn't concentrate. Everytime she got to a period, her mind wandered back to the sergeant.

She thought maybe it was his eyes. The blue reminded her of the sea and that reminded her of holidays in the islands with her family. Maybe the strong set of his jaw, the light dusting of stubble he had had tonight since it was so late. Anywhere he walked, he was confident and in control, head held high, an I don't give a fuck attitude.

Eleanor wished she had that. She cared what people thought, how she was perceived. She couldn't help it, but she was able to have a bit of normalcy here on base. People seemed to leave her be. As long as she was a good pilot, a good officer, everything would be fine. She tried to blend in, be one of the guys, jokes and smart remarks.

It had only been three weeks and it was smooth so far. She had flown some successful ops, settled into a routine, made a few friends. Matt told her she should come hang out more around the canteen and the rec room, but she wasn't sure. She just wanted to do her job, help people and get home safe so she could decide what was next.

She was up for captain in January, so that would be nice to get before she left. But if she stayed in as a captain, she could have a bunch more opportunities. Eleanor sighed; she just didn't know.


	5. Running and Kill Shots

"Did you know who Lieutenant Wales was this whole time?" David asked Andy, sipping his beer.

"You didn't?" Andy replied, looking surprised. "Maybe you've been in country too long, mate."

David didn't reply. There was rugby on one telly and news on another. He followed sports, mostly rugby and football, but didn't have any interest in pop culture, celebrities or the like. He knew of the royal family, had recognized Prince Charles, the princes and princess in the photo Eleanor showed him, but he hadn't put two and two together. She looked different; the army uniform and no makeup, always shouting at him when they saw each other, a perpetual scowl on her face, but now he saw it. That posh accent, her delicate features and even some of the words she used.

Andy was still talking and then Mikey and a few others came up too. David chugged the last of his beer and stood. They all groaned, saying he was a lightweight, a tosser, stay for one more. He just shook them off and headed out.

He walked back to the barracks, hands shoved deep in his pockets. When the sun went down, the oppressive heat finally gave way, and the air was cool. There were always people around, all hours of the night and day. He nodded at a few people he knew, but no one bothered him. He was walking slow, thinking.

He couldn't figure out the lieutenant and he didn't know why he cared to try. Maybe he had been in country too long, like Andy had said. Maybe it was because everyone else valued his opinion, listened to his orders and was too scared of his temper to say anything contrary. She didn't seem to have that problem. She challenged him and pushed his buttons and no one else did. She got under his skin, and he didn't like it.

* * *

"Els, wait up!" Matt was running to catch up, Eleanor waking quickly away from the airfield. David and his crew were coming from the other direction, heading toward the airfield. Eleanor stopped and turned on Matt. Her face was dark, angry, eyes blazing, mouth in a tight line. David couldn't hear the ensuing argument, but Eleanor was railing at her copilot, gesturing toward the Lynx, her voice raised. Matt raised his voice as well and they could hear him telling her to calm down, that they were fine, it was all fine.

"Let's gear up." David told his troops, getting them to walk on. As they made it closer to the airfield, David saw Maxwell and his copilot.

"What happened out there?" He asked, approaching. Maxwell shook his head, mouth tight.

"Op went sideways. Ground team was ambushed."

"Everyone make it back?" David prodded, shifting his weapon on his shoulder. Maxwell nodded.

"Wales and Chapman took fire, but she made the kill shot."

David headed to his quarters after his maneuvers, his mind wandering. Back on base and able to afford distraction, he thought about the argument they had witnessed between Wales and Chapman. Eleanor and Matt were tight; what could have caused her ire? He knew she was high strung and had little patience, but the op had turned out okay in the sense that their people had made it back.

He thought about what Maxwell had said. Wales had made the shot. That might have been it. In his nine years in the service, he had seen countless soldiers lose their shit after taking a life, whether it was the first or fifteenth time. It was entirely plausible that even after five years she hadn't killed anyone. She didn't fly the more heavily armed Apaches, she hadn't had a deployment in an active combat zone, she was the pilot and the copilot was normally more available for weaponry since the pilot was flying.

David wasn't sure. She seemed supremely confident and in control at all times. But then why had she gone off on Matt? He entered his room, still wondering. Then, he wondered why he even cared. He didn't have an answer for either, but he knew where he could get at least one question answered.

* * *

The next morning, he had his chance. He was heading to the gym, but as he was walking, he spotted an unmistakable figure on the jogging track. At first, it seemed like she was alone, but then David spotted a figure off to the right, sitting on a bench. Eleanor was on the far side, but soon enough, she made it around, earbuds in her ears, hair pulled up, face red. David opened the gate and started stretching. He wasn't one for running outside, but whatever. He pulled out his own earbuds and the figure from the bench, Matt, came closer.

"If you're here to yell at her about something, you can bugger off." He said by way of greeting.

"I'm just here for a run, mate." David replied, staying calm. Just like he hadn't figured out the red haired lieutenant, he hadn't figured out her relationship with her copilot. They went everywhere together. He wasn't even running, just reading a book as she ran laps. Was he some sort of undercover bodyguard? Her lover? That was another question in a sea of questions David had.

Matt looked at him, skeptical, but didn't say anything more, taking a step back. He went back to the bench and his book. David nodded and hit the track. He was a ways behind her, but was fresh and had a longer stride, so he caught up quickly. He didn't know how much longer she would go; she was sweating, her trainers pounding the worn pavement. When he got up next to her, she looked at him, her stride faltering for a split second, but then she pushed ahead, leaving him behind.

David had run five and three quarters of a mile when she stopped. She walked through the center of the track without a word to him, so he continued around, making it a full six as she bent at the knees, catching her breath. He was more of a quick treadmill run and then weights and machines guy, so his knees were killing him, his shins on fire. He was trying his best not to limp.

"I can tell you're not a runner." Eleanor smirked. "You don't need to pretend." She took a big gulp of water, beads of sweat running down her neck and into the valley between her breasts. She had on running shorts, her pale, creamy legs slick with sweat as well.

"How...how can you tell?" David was panting and flopped down on the track, exhausted, the heat from the ground radiating through his sweat soaked tee shirt.

"Your trainers." She replied, smiling. "They're not for long distance and a real runner would know that. I bet you're more of a sport bloke or weights." Matt was chuckling as she wiped her face with a towel. She held a hand out to David, who was still on the ground, and he just looked at her. Finally, he grabbed her hand and she helped pulled him up. Her hand was warm and small in his, smooth where his was big and rough. She had a good, tight grip and her eyes had widened when he took it and squeezed. He let go, his heart beating even faster.

They walked silently for a while, until David just asked her. Not caring if he was wrong, if he embarrassed her in front of Chapman.

"Last night, that was your first kill shot." He said. She and Matt immediately stopped walking.

Her eyes narrowed, she opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She closed her mouth, looking out at the flat desert, the mountains beyond and David had his answer.

"I'm the only one here who knows, so keep it to yourself." Matt said, stepping closer, threatening.

"I wasn't going to say anything." David replied, holding up his hands. "It's not a big deal, anyway." He started walking again, away from them, but she caught up.

"It's a big deal to me. I need...I don't want people to know. Please." She looked at him, big eyes wide and pleading. She put a hand on his forearm to stop him walking, but let go when he looked down at it, surprised at the touch. He couldn't form words or even thoughts. The way she said please, the way she was looking at him. He felt overheated. He just nodded, swallowing hard and she thanked him.

"I'm this way." David said, nodding toward the enlisted barracks. They had walked the rest of the way quietly. The officers quarters started on the opposite side of the road. Matt nodded to him, said goodbye to Eleanor, and headed that way. Eleanor hesitated, the toe of her trainer making a pattern in the sand.

"Would you want to run with me again?" She asked looking ahead at Matt. When David didn't reply, she continued. "I...I can't be in the open alone and Matt just sits and reads, so I feel badly. Making him sit in the hot sun whilst I run."

"What about that captain from the other day?" David asked.

"It's okay, don't worry about it. If you don't want to-"

"No, I do. I was just asking. I noticed him around you a lot." David stammered, feeling like a fool.

"Captain Peters knows my brothers. He's never admitted, but I'm sure they suggested he mind me out here. I like to run every day and that's too much for him, so maybe…" she trailed off, but David understood.

"We'll alternate."

She nodded, smiling a big smile, emerald eyes sparkling. "And poor Matt can be off duty."


	6. Pilates and Parachutes

And so they ran. They ran every other day. Sometimes, he could get her to cut the run in half and go to the gym. He didn't know when they stopped being enemies and started being friends, but they did. They saw each other around base and of course on operational duties and maneuvers, but they didn't hang out or anything. The guys kept asking him, but he just shrugged and said there was nothing. They were just working out.

"I just don't like it." She said when he asked her why she complained the whole time they were at the gym. Everytime, without fail, she would moan and groan her way through it.

"So sorry the army doesn't offer Pilates classes your highness." He teased. They were walking back to the barracks.

"It's actually your _royal_ highness." She sassed, but added that she wasn't much for organized classes, either. He gave her a look and she screwed up her face, thinking of an answer to his original query. "Well, first, I don't like being in the gym. It's crowded and everyone's looking at me."

David laughed. "No one is looking at you." That got him a frown. "You're not as important as you think you are." He winked at her.

"That's...I don't think I'm important. I just feel like everyone is looking at me." She stammered through, her creamy cheeks turning red.

"Well, they're not." He said with finality. "And who the fuck cares if they are?" She looked at him, but didn't reply. "You said first. What's second?" He asked.

"It's confining and I'm lying down, not able to see around me."

"You're not in control. Same with your helicopter. You're the pilot. You're in charge." He smiled wide. He had finally worked a piece out. "It's why you like to run. The wide open track, the open land. You can see all around you. Run as fast or as slow, as short or long. Push as hard as you want." She stopped walking, squinting up at him in the sun.

"Don't think you've got me figured out."

That made him laugh. A big, deep, open mouth belly laugh that caused his eyes to sparkle and the skin around them crinkle. He clutched at his side since he was laughing so hard and she smiled too.

* * *

"Climb on in, blokes!" Eleanor made a big show of holding the hatch open for David and his men. They all filed into the Lynx, one by one, David sitting closest to the cockpit. The helo could hold nine, and David's platoon had twelve including him, but only eight were on this op. "Sorry there won't be any inflight snacks or alcohol, no film either, but I'm sure my copilot can regale you with some terrible jokes."

"Just a smooth ride, please, Lieutenant." One of the lance corporals was already looking a bit green. Eleanor smiled.

"That, I can do, lance corporal." She climbed in, pushing on her helmet. Matt did all the preflight and Eleanor started flipping switches and pushing buttons. Matt got them an all clear and her gloved hands pulled up on the stick. David was mesmerized. He had never been in the aircraft with her, only listening from the ground. She was hugely competent, commanding the aircraft with ease. She chatted with Matt through their radios for a bit, but then they stopped as they neared the drop zone, all business.

"Comm this is Lynx, ready at the drop." Her voice came over all the comm lines and David ordered his crew ready.

"Lance corporal, you ready to jump?" She was completely straight faced and the man looked ready to soil himself. Eleanor lifted a plastic flap and pushed the button underneath, the hatch creaking open, just sky as far as they could see. The lance corporal's eyes went wide, knuckles white on his gear.

"I don't...I don't…I need a parachute." The man stammered, panicked. "Sarge, I don't have a parachute!"

David started laughing then, and so did the rest of them.

"Blimey, we're not jumping." He chuckled. "She's taking the piss. We're not in the fucking Air Force." Everyone laughed harder and Eleanor smoothly landed the helicopter in the desert.

"Be back for you in ninety minutes, Sarge." Eleanor told him as he jumped out into the sun.

"We'll be waiting for you, Lieutenant."

* * *

The helicopter was circling, waiting for the flare. It was five minutes past due. Eleanor couldn't land without the flare. They could be too far out, there could be an ambush, she could be in the wrong place to extract them.

"Anything?" She asked Matt, who replied negative. She called back to base, asking for instructions, and was told to stay circling. "Is that it? One klick southeast?" Matt turned, looking, and replied no. Her blood pressure was steadily rising. He had said they would be waiting. She knew he was a great leader, competent and thorough. Where were they?

She reminded Matt that they couldn't hover for too long. They needed enough fuel to get back. Five minutes turned to ten, fifteen and Eleanor was determined to stay calm. She took deep breaths, concentrating on the operation. They would come. He had said so. He was too stubborn and demanding not to.

"There?" Matt pointed out the windshield. Squinting, Eleanor looked.

"Get me a distance and check with base." She instructed and Matt did it. She didn't know where the team was supposed to have been or where they went. If the blue flare Matt spotted, so far away, could even be them.

"Confirmed. Let's get them." Matt finally replied and they went. Five minutes and many kilometers later, they were landing in a clear spot, the last of the blue flare dissipating. Eleanor quickly counted eight uniformed figures; all accounted for, and she exhaled the breath she had been holding. David was scowling, and his sunglasses were hiding his eyes, but she knew they would be stormy, annoyed. Mikey and Ron helped a private into the helo, his arms around their shoulders.

"Base, this is Lynx. We've got them. Headed your way." She clicked out of her radio and switched frequencies. "Late for your ride, Sarge."

"Sorry, we had a bit of a...problem." David replied. He pulled off his helmet, ending all conversation. Eleanor got the helicopter back in the air and headed home. Matt was turned in his seat, watching the ground team. Soon, he turned back to her.

"Looks like one of the blokes was injured." He said over their radio line. He added that it didn't seem life threatening.

* * *

"How's your man?" Eleanor came up behind him at the infirmary. She had showered and changed and he could smell her perfume. Spicy and vanilla.

"Broken arm and sprained ankle." David replied, running a hand through his dark hair. Some sand shook out. She wondered absently if his hair would curl if it were longer. She guessed that it would. "He's not gonna make it."

"What?!" She was shocked, her eyes wide. "It's only a broken arm!" Her hand went to his arm, truly upset about the poor soldier. David started to laugh, blue eyes crinkling up at the corners.

"No, I meant in the army. He's not cut out for it." He was still chuckling.

"Thank goodness! I was scared for a moment." She replied. Her hand was still on his arm. She looked down, noticing that, and shifted her weight. "Well, I'll...I'll let you get cleaned up." He was filthy, sweat stained through his olive green undershirt and dirt streaking his handsome face. David could only nod.

He had thought she would go left to his right, but she didn't. When they left the infirmary, she continued to walk with him, past her turn. Her hands were shoved into the pockets of her jeans. She didn't speak, but kept glancing at him

"What's wrong with you?" David finally asked, halting his stride. She stopped too, frowned at his bluntness, and exhaled.

"I...I'm glad all of you are okay." Eleanor said. She squeezed his arm again and headed to her bunk, leaving him staring after her.


	7. Warnings and Compliments

"You should stop hanging out with him." Matt said. They were at the mess, plates half empty. It had taken him that long to come out with it, acting strange the whole time. Eleanor stopped her fork mid bite, looking at her friend.

"Who? Sergeant Budd?" She asked, putting her fork down, food still on it. She knew this was coming; she knew how it looked. There were two things she didn't know. Which one of her friends were going to take on talking to her about it, and what she was going to do about the handsome sergeant.

Matt was right. They did need to stop hanging out. When his crew hadn't been at the extraction point, she was so close to losing her cool and that was when she knew. She was all business on operations. Sure, there was some joking, but they were all there to do a job and people died if they fucked up. But when his team wasn't there, she panicked and had to really concentrate to keep her mind on the mission.

Matt was still talking, but she had zoned him out, so only heard the last bit, she got the overall message, though. People were talking, he was enlisted, she and Matt were out in a little over a month.

"Plus he's an arsehole." Matt added, for good measure.

"He's actually not that bad. Just...serious." She replied.

"You do know he's married, right?"

Eleanor nodded. That had given her pause. He spoke often about the children, but never his wife. The only reason she knew he was married was the gold ring he often fiddled with nervously.

"We're just friends."

"You're one of less than fifty women here. He's been in almost a year. I know you're not daft, Els." She just frowned, so he kept going. Her position at home, her wealth, it was all a factor.

"We're just friends, Matty." She could only repeat it. She had nothing else; no other argument. Everything Matt said was right, but she couldn't help it. She looked for David everywhere, looked forward to their runs and even the times he forced her to the gym. They didn't eat together since the officers had a separate mess, but they would see each other at the canteen, the comm center and the rec center. When he was off base, she would always wander to the comm board to see when they came back.

Maybe Matt was right; maybe David was just lonely. She thought about it as they finished eating and she came to the conclusion that she didn't care. She was lonely too and liked hanging out with him. He was a good person, funny and easy to talk with. He teased her about her life, but beyond that treated her like any other person on base. She knew that nothing could happen between them, but so what if it did? They were both adults and she was leaving after Christmas. As long as she remembered that, that she was leaving, it made it easier to think of him as a friend rather than a handsome, blue eyed man that made her palms sweat and her heart race.

* * *

"I've never known anyone as posh as you." David was saying. They had just done seven miles around the track before the sun rose too high. They worked out everyday now, much to Matt and Captain Peters's dismay. Sometimes, they would just walk, talking as they went, but sometimes she would push him, racing down the track, daring him to catch her.

"I'm not that posh." She tried, but he just looked at her, knowing she knew she was telling tales. "Well, here I'm not. Do you think I am? I try to blend in."

"You'll never blend, Princess." David waggled his eyebrows at her, smiling. She asked him why. She really thought she fit right in with all the other troops. David listed a few things; some of the words she used, her mannerisms and of course her plummy accent. He knew she really did try, though, cursing with the rest of them, dirty jokes in the canteen, playing cards in the rec room. She never acted posh and always made people feel comfortable when she was talking with them. He supposed she could stand out infinitely more, considering.

"One of the female lance corporals on my crew was talking about you. Said your trainers cost a hundred quid and your sunnies three." She frowned at that, but didn't say the lance corporal was wrong. "Then, there's the fact that you have a private room, and your private bodyguard following you all around."

"Matt's not a bodyguard." She said, hands on her hips as they rounded the track, walking. "We've been a team since flight school."

"Fine. But if you want to blend, you should lock up that watch."

She looked down at her shiny silver watch. She never took it off except to sleep, leaving it on the bedside table at night and putting it on again in the morning.

"It's for flying."

"Bollocks."

"I swear." She insisted. "My brothers gave it to me when I graduated Sandhurst."

"No one knows that, but they know it cost thousands of pounds."

Eleanor looked down at the watch, shaking her wrist a little. "Don't you think my actions here outweigh all that?" She asked and he knew they weren't teasing anymore. She really wanted to blend in. Do her duty, serve and fight with them all.

"Well, yeah, if you were shite, you wouldn't be an almost captain. All the blokes would have laughed and abused you right out of the Army and you'd be back at your palace crying into your silk pillows." He said, sobering up, but still throwing a crack at her in there.

"Are you finally complimenting my flying?" She smiled, a bright, wide smile, pointedly ignoring his dig.

"You fished for it long enough, lass." He said, bumping his hip into her. "Seriously, you're a good pilot."

"Just good?" She had a wicked grin and his heart started racing.

"Passable." He replied, struggling to keep a straight face, blue eyes sparkling.

"Tosser."


	8. Pickles and Whiskey

David had just finished up a call home. The line had been long at the comm center and he was annoyed. He went to the canteen, hoping a beer and some telly would cool him down. It was packed, loud and raucous. Someone was singing horribly off key at the karaoke. David was just about to turn around and leave, but someone called his name. Looking around, he spotted Ron, Andy and Mikey at a table, a young female soldier with them. David nodded at them and pushed through to their table.

"It's too fucking crowded." He shouted over the loud music. Andy just laughed and shoved a bottle of beer at him. Mikey introduced the female soldier, a private named Sarah from Berkshire.

"You get the next round, Sarge." Mikey said when they were empty. David stood and pushed through to the bar. He ordered another round of beer and waited, hands in his jeans pockets. The music had stopped and started again, but the bloke singing now was a bit better. Heading back to the table, David spotted that unmistakable ginger hair. She had it down and loose again and he just stared. She was standing with her back to him, surrounded by her usual mates, Matt, the captain, the female lieutenant and one other person.

She was dressed for a night out; tight jeans, a floaty top that kept slipping off one creamy, pale shoulder and that wild, loose hair. Matt was facing him and caught David's eye over her head, brown eyes narrowing the slightest bit. Eleanor noticed though, and turned.

She had on a bit of makeup, her cheeks flushed, and when she spotted him, she winked. He was paralyzed, holding his breath. She made it worse; smiling at him and lifting her beer bottle in a mock salute. It was only when someone bumped into him, almost spilling his drinks, that he broke his stare and went back to his mates. He didn't miss Matt's deep frown at Eleanor though.

Too many beers to count later, David was at the bar again. Andy bartering with him to get a round of shots and then they would go. The crowd had thinned since it was late, but there was still a good amount of people. Unfortunately, the night had just increased his bad mood. He had been distracted, watching her all night. Men would come up to her, if they could ignore Matt's steely stare, and talk with her. She would smile, shake her head, maybe give them a little pat on the shoulder. Most would get the hint, especially with Captain Peters and Matt pushing in closer.

The bartender lined up the shots, Andy, Mikey, and Mikey's new friend Sarah standing with David. They counted down, and drank them, the alcohol burning its way down. Andy ordered another round.

"Got one for me?"

David turned at her voice. She was right there, so close. He looked at her and then over her head. Matt and her friends weren't there. He swallowed hard and nodded.

"Add one for the lieutenant." He told Andy. Andy looked at David, eyes going wide, but did it.

She chatted easily with the little group, asking Sarah about her family and why she enlisted. Making fun of Mikey like they all did and talking with them about their last op. Andy had figured out that she knew a corporal that he knew, so they gossiped about that person for a bit.

"My turn." She leaned over the bar, her shirt riding up, that sliver of pale, creamy skin catching David's eyes. She spoke to the bartender, the man's eyes going big. He shook his head and she pointed at the area where they had the cherries and olives, and then he went over, coming back with a bottle of whiskey and a jar of pickles.

He lined up two shot glasses for everyone and Eleanor insisted that he take one too, for research, she said. Then, he poured the whiskey in one glass and pickle juice in another, each person getting one of each. They all looked at Eleanor, dubious.

"Open minds, mates." She said, and then told them the whiskey first, chasing it with the pickle juice. "Ready?" David was pulling a face. "Come on! You'll like it, I promise."

"I hate pickles."

"Doesn't matter." She replied. "Don't be a tosser." She dared him. She counted down and they all did it. Everyone was quiet, Eleanor had a big smile on her pretty face.

"Give us another." David told the bartender, and Eleanor laughed.

"Do you want me to walk you?" David leaned down, breath warm on her ear. She had started yawning and couldn't hide it. They were both very drunk, David rolling his r's and dropping his consonants. Eleanor had an arm around Mikey's waist and Sarah was slumping against the bar. She had kept up with them, surprising considering her size, but she was finally fading.

She moved away from Mikey and looked up at David. He held his breath, hoping she would say yes. She nodded and they slipped out, not saying anything to David's friends.

He kept his hands in his pockets and they walked slowly toward the barracks. It was quiet, late, but as always, there were people here and there. They could make out a chinook helicopter coming in to land, some armored vehicles rumbling past. Every once in a while she would bump into him. He figured it was due to her drunkenness, but he didn't mind either way.

"Why don't you ever speak of your wife?" She just blurted it out, alcohol loosening her manners.

"She's fucking another bloke. Someone she works with." He hadn't told anyone. After he said it, something in him shifted. He felt lighter, calmer. He exhaled and walked along with Eleanor.

"I'm thinking of going civvy after I make captain." She said, not saying anything about his admission. It wasn't that she didn't care, it was just that she wasn't exp that reply and quickly changed the subject. "My family thinks it's time."

"What do you think?" He asked. They had spoken about her family, but mostly just little anecdotes. Her sister in law that was pregnant, her brothers' military careers, where her dad was in the world that he was too busy to ring her. He knew they weren't pleased she was here, but he also knew her well enough that he knew that didn't matter.

"No one cares what I think." She said. "I do what I'm told."

"That's shite and you fucking know it."

She stopped walking at that, looking at him with an unreadable expression on her face. David went on.

"I don't know why you're trying to con me, but we both know you don't listen to anyone. Why listen to them now? Stay in, get out, but do it because you want to."

"Don't act like you know me." She was agitated, his words too close to home.

"I do know you." David insisted. "I know that you won't be pushed about and you leap without thinking. This decision shouldn't be any different. Just do what you bloody well want."

Her eyes were impossibly round, deep green pools looking at him. In one step, she was in his space, her small hand reaching up to his neck, pulling his head down, her lips coming up to meet his. She still tasted like pickles and whiskey. It was quick, David breaking the kiss first, the warmth of her lips too hot, the scent of her perfume too much, the blood rushing in his ears too loud.

"That's not what I meant." He whispered, his forehead touching hers, his hands on her hips.

"I know, but it fits, too."

"We're a bad idea."

"I know that too." She replied, her hands going to his waist. His eyes were closed and she looked at him, willing them to open. When they did, she smiled.

"Your eyes make me think of the sea." She whispered it, her hand coming up to touch his face, his soft off duty beard, strong jaw clenching under her touch. "I miss the sea." She added, wistfully.

"Let me finish walking you back." David finally said, straightening up and instantly missing the warmth of her touch, the heat of her body so close. She nodded and stepped into line next to him.

He knew he should turn around. He knew what was going to happen when they got to her room, but he couldn't walk the other way. He was drawn to her, that bright smile and those green eyes with such fire behind them. David couldn't stop himself and he found that he didn't want to.


	9. Tattoos and Moonlight

_A/N: Please note the rating change. Enjoy ;)_

The alcohol coursing through his bloodstream was making his head foggy, her kiss making him even foggier. He slid a hand into the back pocket of her jeans, just wanting to touch her.

She smiled, looking down, and they continued on.

"Here we are." Eleanor said as they made it to the tiny metal building where the female officers bunked. Her door was the first in the row.

"Here we are." David repeated, lamely. He moved away from her, giving her space to open her door. His pulse was racing, fingers itching to touch her again. He wanted to feel her everywhere, touch every part of her.

"I'm only here five more weeks." She said, swinging the door open and leaning against it as he stood in the sand.

"I know." His mind was racing, screaming at him to step up, to do it. Damn it all to hell and make her his.

"Maybe-" she started speaking, but he stopped her, taking one step up, his lips crashing down to hers, his hands balling up in her wild mane of hair. She responded immediately, pulling in close, hands grabbing his black tee shirt. He pushed her back against the door, his strong, solid body pressing her into the metal door. Eleanor's mind was racing, her body on fire. His tongue was prodding at her lips, so she immediately allowed it access, sighing as he kissed her deeper.

She was dimly aware that they were standing against the wide open door, so she pushed at him, taking the door knob in one hand, effectively forcing him into her quarters. It was dark as they adjusted to the light, but the room was small, so David felt the back of his legs hit the bed with only a few small steps. Never breaking the kiss, he sat, pulling her down in his lap, her knees on either side.

Her hair was all around him, a curtain of soft curls, her body warm and solid in his lap. He hadn't been with anyone in so long, so he responded instantly, embarrassed, knowing she could feel his arousal through his jeans. She was overpowering his senses, kissing him hard and pulling at his hair.

Eleanor pulled his shirt over his head, breaking the kiss, her mouth going to his neck. David's eyes adjusted to the lack of light and he could see her in shadows, her chest heaving, the smooth skin of that one shoulder that kept popping out. He bent his head, kissing the bare skin there, working his way to her neck as she squirmed in his lap. Her hands were on his bare chest, then around to his broad, strong back, wanting to touch him everywhere.

His hands dipped under the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head, her hair going static. He immediately dipped his head to the swell of her breasts, spilling over her bra. His hands were splayed across her back and he easily unhooked the bra, licking the perfect roundness that was right within reach. She moaned, arching up closer and he almost came right in his jeans.

She pushed against him with her hips as he sucked and licked her breasts, her tight, pink nipples, her breastbone, and back to her face, her mouth red and swollen from his stubble. He felt her hands on the button of his jeans and it hit him then that they were doing this. They were really doing this and there was no going back.

David looked at her then, naked except for her knickers in the dim moonlight through the window. She was beautiful, her eyes gone dark with need and want, wanting him. His hand reached out; she had a tattoo on her ribcage, where it would be covered by a bikini top. It was fine, delicate script, dark ink on that fair, pale skin. He touched it and she smiled.

"Motto of the blues and royals." She whispered, stepping closer, kissing him. "Evil be to him that evil thinks."

"Wouldn't picture you as a tattoo sort of lass." He replied with that broad scots accent, smiling against her mouth.

"I've got one more." She had a wicked grin on her face, and her hands went to her knickers, pushing them away. His eyes went right to the tattoo on her hip, a dark, loopy D. "It's my mum's handwriting." He touched that one too, it was older and a bit faded.

Eleanor inhaled sharply as he went to his knees, kissing the tattoo softly, hands on her hips. He trailed more featherlight kisses up her flat stomach, her regimental tattoo, between her breasts and finally back to her mouth. She squirmed the whole time, moaning and sighing and pulling at him. His hands were all over her warm, perfect body, rough and strong on her smooth skin. David picked her up, only his briefs between them, his hard erection straining at the soft cotton fabric. She wrapped her legs around his waist, squeezing tight.

He dropped her on the bed and she pulled him down with her, her hands on him, pushing away his boxers. More kissing, exploring, touching. When her hands went to his shaft, he could barely hold back. He thrusted up in her hands and she laughed.

"Fast this time, but next time, nice and slow." She said confidently in his ear. Her declaration drove him mad, her insistence that there would be a next time. Her hand pumped up and down the hard length of his erection, her thumb pressing the tip. He groaned, all the blood rushing southward. If he didn't get inside her soon, he knew he wouldn't make it.

His hand went to her stomach, drifting down, dipping into her center. She was so tight and wet and it was her turn to thrust upward. One finger, then the next, teasing, massaging, as she moaned from deep in her throat. His palm stayed on her, pressing and driving her crazy.

"Please…" she whispered breathlessly, begging. "Please, David…" She had never said his name before and the way she said it now, ragged and pleading, her leg going round his hip to pull him close, was all he needed.

She lifted her hips, wrapping her legs around him, pulling him deeper. He could feel her tighten even more, the smooth walls inside her spasm around him. He slid out before he was too far gone, looking at her. She leaned away from him to the small metal bedside table, opening a drawer. She felt around, but soon grew frustrated and sat up.

"Bollocks, I can't find them." She closed the drawer and opened the one underneath, rummaging again. This time, she was victorious and threw the small, unopened box at him.

"Not open?" He teased, sitting next to her with a huge smile.

"Hush. I'm a well born lady." Her smile was just as big and he laughed loudly. She shoved at him and he grabbed her around the waist, pulling her back down as she laughed.

David slid the condom on and then was back to her. Her hands on his biceps, he thrust in, swearing he got even harder, which he thought impossible. Her moans and sounds were doing him in, the heat between them unfathomable. She was saying please over and over as he moved in and out, squeezing tight. When the pleases switched to his name and she was trembling around him, he knew she was there. He pushed in hard, their skin slapping together. She repeated his name over and over, like a chant, her nails digging into his back.

When she cried out, he joined her, the white heat starting in his belly and flowing out lower and lower until he saw stars behind his eyes. He pounded in, losing his mind, needing to be as deep inside her as he could. He poured into her with a low growl and a tremor, his body spent.

"It's been a really long time." He said, his accent thick. A million expressions went through her face as she looked at him. Ultimately, she just nodded, not knowing what to say. David pressed a kiss to her forehead, still damp and hot under his lips.

"Did...can you stay for a little? I don't know if that's weird or not…" Eleanor asked him, her voice quiet in the dark.

"I can't get caught here, but I'll stay for a bit." He replied. She nodded again. "Plus, if I don't stay, we can't have a second round." She laughed and snaked a hand around his waist, her cheek pressed up to his chest. He moved the hand on her hip to her hair, pushing the wild curls off her neck, bending to kiss her shoulder.

Before he knew it, they were joining together again, slow and sweet as she had said. Unhurried, less frantic, but still intense and raw. His brain was spinning, his nerves on fire. He wanted to be so deep inside her that they were one person. She clutched at him so hard, crying out his name as she came and his heart stopped. He knew it had been a while and it was new, but it was so different and all consuming.

They dozed for as long as he thought safe, but he couldn't stay, as much as he wanted too. It was calm and peaceful there with her, no one to worry about or keep safe. Her eyes were closed, lashes dark on her skin, and he finally sat up to go. Eleanor shifted in her sleep, reaching for him.

"I've got to be off." He said, kissing her softly. She burrowed back into the blankets, and he gathered up his clothes. Dressed, he bent for one more kiss and she pulled him down hard, hand on his neck.

"Be careful sneaking away." She said, voice tired.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Els."


	10. Aspirin and Ops

David didn't see her tomorrow. Three hours after he got back to his quarters, Mikey was pounding on his door, scaring him out of his wits.

"What the fuck, mate?!" David answered his door, exhausted, half dressed, his head pounding, his blue eyes bleary. Mikey was already in full gear and pushed a bottle of water at him. He teased David about a hangover, telling him they were needed at command. His friend waited outside as David hurriedly dressed, brushed his teeth, used the toilet. He drank the entire bottle of water before he was even outside.

"I need an aspirin." David detoured to the infirmary and grabbed two more bottles of water and a packet of pills. His weapon over his shoulder, they headed to command.

The mission was laid out, David glad that it was relatively simple, since he knew he was distracted. He struggled to keep focused, not to think about last night, think about her. It proved difficult. Every time a chopper rumbled overhead, he looked up. Determined to make it back alive, he buckled down, pushed her out of his thoughts, and slid back into soldier mode.

When he got back, hot, sweaty and agitated as he always was after being in town, she was gone. The Lynx untethered and nowhere to be seen. He checked the board and saw they were running a supply operation over to the marine base a few provinces over.

He headed back to his room after he showered, thinking maybe he would nap and try to find her at night. He stared up at the ceiling. He let himself think again then, and not about klicks and munitions and troop movements. The way she smiled at him, the way she said his name, the way she felt under him. Christ, he was hard again, just remembering. He had no idea what was happening. For all their differences, they had the same ideals, values and passions, but he knew, deep down, that this wasn't going to work.

He was still technically married, with two small kids. Enlisted and stuck in. All his money went home and if he left, what sort of job could he get? He never went to university, had no skills except being a soldier. She was a fucking princess, an almost captain worth millions of pounds, leaving to live a life of service of another kind.

Five weeks. That was all they had and he knew it. He hoped she did too.

* * *

They carried on. Sneaking around, sneaking time and little moments. Eleanor was convinced that Matt knew, and David thought perhaps Andy had figured it out. Neither man would spill though, so they were fine with it. If they weren't busy and spotted each other around base, there would be a frantic dash to be together wherever they could, even if it was just a quick kiss. She went to her knees once in the comm center, in the last row of internet cubicles with no one around, his hard erection pushing into her mouth. She didn't let him pull out and he emptied into that soft, perfect mouth, his mind blown.

He would slip into her room at night with express directives to come no matter the time. They would make love and lie tangled together, her chin jabbing into his sternum as they talked. Sometimes, they dozed off, sometimes it was hours of sex, their bodies sore and raw and used up.

A stolen wink or an innocent thumbs up as she climbed into the helicopter, a quick nod as he left through the gates, but then, when it was dark, he would come to her and they would have the darkness to protect them, to keep their secret, to tell each other anything and everything. To touch, and kiss and learn each other's bodies so they would be burned in their memories when they were apart.

* * *

David strolled nonchalantly to the female officers quarters, making a wide circuitous route in case anyone was watching. If he stayed in the back, there weren't any lights and he could hug the wall to the door, staying in the shadows. Eleanor's door was unlocked, the room dark, but he could make out her small form in the bed. He was already hard, just stepping into the room. He shed his clothes and slid under the blankets.

She rolled closer as his weight dipped the mattress, warm and comforting. He sighed against her bare shoulder; he could get used to this, it was so foreign to him; the touch and comfort of her. She didn't speak or open her eyes, just pushed against him, her back to his front. The firm, rounded swell of her bottom pushing at his hard dick. His hands gripped her hips and pushed in hard, no warning, no ceremony. Her cry of shock settled to a deep moan, and she pushed back even more. He pulled her hips to an angle, so they were almost perpendicular, and rammed in as hard as he could manage in the tiny bed.

"Fuck yes." She moaned and he chuckled.

"I take it back. You're not posh."

"Told you."

* * *

Eleanor looked up at him, their bodies tangled together. David's hand was twisting a curl around one finger and then the next and back. They only had a few more weeks and this would be over. Even if she stayed in, odds were that she wouldn't stay at this base, and she wasn't even sure she could stay deployed. Her brain knew there was nothing for them after this; that it was just a fleeting series of moments in their lives. Her heart, however, couldn't get on the same page. She was trying; thinking of solutions, but she didn't even know if he felt the same way.

"I spoke with William this afternoon." She said, avoiding the big topic of them to focus on a smaller one. Her career in the army versus her life as a princess. David put a hand behind his head so he could look at her comfortably. She continued saying how her brother thought it was best if she re-upped that she didn't go back to a red zone. Maybe she could go into the reserves or lecture or even fly search and rescue like him.

"Either way, you wouldn't be here." He said, knowing the same thing that she did. It had only been a short while, but he was dreading her departure. He just wanted to be with her every second. Soak up every smile, every look, every touch, before he only saw her in magazines.

Eleanor was quiet for a while and he thought she had fallen asleep. His hand was still in her hair, her head on his chest.

"Would you ever go civvy?" She asked, her voice soft, ghosting over his bare chest.

"I wouldn't know what to do." He replied. "I've been in ten years."

"An instructor at boot camp? Go back to uni and get a degree? Maybe a copper? That's similar to being in the military." Eleanor offered.

"There's an idea. We'll go civvy together. I'll be a copper and you can fly the traffic helo." He joked.

"Sounds grand." She laughed, pushing up to kiss him.

He didn't mention that he'd have to get divorced. He'd have to actually find and get a job. She didn't mention that she'd never be able to have a civilian job, date a divorced man with two children. That the press would tear him apart and relentlessly stalk them. Instead, she just kissed him and he kissed her back, both of them knowing that those weren't actual problems because after she left they would be over.


	11. Dates and Divorce

"My leave was approved." David was Skyping Vicki, Eleanor at the terminal next to him, chatting to her sister in law. David could see the little chubby face of her nephew pop into the screen occasionally, squealing each time he got a look at his aunt. "I'll be home on Boxing Day until New Year's, but I've figured the kid's gifts and will send them ahead." His voice was flat, he really just wanted to talk to the kids, but Vicki wanted to talk first.

Eleanor hung up with Kate, telling her she would see them in a few weeks. She dithered at her terminal, trying to get a look at Vicki. David had shown her a few photos on his phone and she had thought the blond was pretty. He caught her snooping though, reaching over and squeezing her hand while still staying in view of his wife. She squeezed back and left, her uniform passing behind him the only thing visible on his screen.

David's boots thudded on the metal porch, Eleanor waiting for him, messing about on her phone. She always had it in her pocket, mostly in airplane mode and always on vibrate. The service was spotty, so she used it mainly for texts and photos. He wondered absently how many of him were on there. He had a few of her, smiling brightly at him and a few selfies of them together.

Eleanor saw David's dark look, jaw clenched tightly and knew the rest of the call home hadn't gone well.

"Please don't tell me she doesn't want you to come home." Eleanor said. He had been worried about that; thinking Vicki wouldn't let him see the kids. They started walking, no destination in mind, and he told her. His face angry, eyes blazing, he couldn't even get through a sentence before he had to stop and take a deep breath so he wouldn't explode.

"She said I can see the kids, even take them on holiday, but-" He stopped, hands on his knees. His chest was tight, Eleanor standing in front of him, looking concerned. She hesitantly reached out to put a hand on his back. He was bent over, staring at her boots in the sand.

"Whatever it is, we'll figure it out." Her voice seemed far away, the blood pounding in his ears.

"She's...that fucker is living in my fucking house!" He stood up straight, exclaiming, arms thrown out wide. "She said I can't stay there on leave." He threw his hat to the ground. He ranted and raved. All the money he sent home so some other man could live in his house with his kids and his wife. Out here in the fucking desert, risking his life and she was living with her coworker, his kids seeing the arsehole all day and eating meals like a happy family. He probably did the school run. "They probably call him dad!" He was out of breath, riled up from all the shouting, and people were starting to look.

"David." Her hand was still on his forearm, so she gave it a quick squeeze and pulled back. "I've seen you talking with them. They know you."

"I'm filing papers first thing. I'll get a solicitor while I'm home and...fuck!" He was so angry that he didn't hear her. Went on about making her buy him out of the house, the guy was a physician, so he had plenty of money, he would show them, and on and on.

"Everything will be fine." Eleanor tried again, picked up his dusty hat, got him moving so they weren't standing in the open with people staring as he lost his mind. She wanted to comment that he wouldn't be able to get a solicitor until after the holidays, but she didn't, knowing it would make it worse. "I know you don't want to hear it and what she did is horrible, but plenty of people get divorced. The children will be fine. You'll be fine." Her voice was calm and steady and he stopped walking, staring at her.

"I was Ella's age when my parents separated." She went on. "It wasn't so bad, but then again, I had a lot of other people around." She spoke often and fondly of her nanny, her relationship with her grandparents and aunts and uncles. "If they know you love them and you make time for them, that's all that matters. I knew at six that my parents were better off apart."

He nodded. She made sense, but he was still radiating anger, hands clenched into fists. She had an op, so she steered him toward the canteen, hoping some of his mates were there. "I know our marriage is over and...I'm here with you, but-" he tried, shoving his hands in his pockets. She just nodded her head, understanding.

* * *

He came to her room that night, stumbling and drunk. She really hoped he hadn't been at the canteen this whole time, but it sure seemed like it. He tasted like scotch, smelled like cigarettes even though he didn't smoke. They didn't talk; she just kissed him, touched him, made him moan. It was rough and sloppy, but she didn't mind. She knew it was a comfort; a connection that he needed.

David was hard and ready, his erection throbbing against her thigh. She arched up, but he flipped her over, pulling at her hips so her bare bottom was facing up, her hands and knees on the mattress. His hand went to her clit, massaging the sensitive nerves, and she responded with a low moan of her own. He entered her from behind, in one hard thrust, and she cried out. He didn't stop, didn't slow, just kept going, wild with need. He was frantic and powerful, pounding in, his hands touching her everywhere.

Everything was wet and slick, their bodies crashing together as he fucked her with everything he had. She was unraveling, trembling around him, the softness of her in contrast to his complete hardness. Eleanor clenched around him as his white hot eruption spilled into her and David cried out, shocked at the intensity. She was panting, breathless, and he twisted them back around, pulling her close.

They didn't talk for a while, his eyes closed, her hand raking through his dark hair. He had her tight in his arms, his heart still beating wildly. Their bodies were still tangled together and he shifted, those ocean eyes opening, looking at her.

"I want to be with you." He said it quietly, his accent thick, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"You are with me." She whispered back, hands on his

"At home." David clarified. He was emotional, still a little drunk, missing home. He knew all this, but he still wanted to say it. "I want to finish my deployment and come home."

"You want to go civvy?" She asked hesitantly. He nodded. In February, his tour was over and he could either reenlist or go civvy.

"I'm not sure what I'll do instead, but I want to go home. Get divorced and take you on a date." He squeezed her tighter.

"I have to wait for you to get divorced to go on a date?" She asked, frowning.

"We can still shag in the meantime." He replied, waggling his eyebrows, the mood instantly lightened.

"Deal."


	12. Holidays and Happiness

Eleanor slipped out of the bed, carefully extracting herself from under David's arm. He stirred, rolling over, but didn't wake, just shoved his arm under her pillow, pulling it close. She pulled on his black tee shirt, grabbed a drink of water and her phone, and went to the little desk in the corner. It was the middle of the night, but she was restless.

David's admission had unsettled her. It was all so fast. They had known each other for a few months, and she felt like it had been ages, but still. She had told him things about her that no one else had known, even her best mates from boarding school. They talked about everything, but they hadn't discussed their future. She felt inexplicably drawn to him, more than any man she had ever been with. He took her seriously, listened, didn't care about who she was or how much money she had.

She just wanted to see him smile, make those ocean eyes crinkle with laughter, and take away his stress and worry. She blew out a breath and looked back up at the sky. Maybe she could tell Kate or Camilla when she got home, ask for advice. She could definitely get him a job, but she knew he wouldn't want any sort of help. He was too proud for that; so she pushed that thought away and just sat, looking through the photos.

She scrolled past older pictures of her family, tiny baby George, her and her mates. There were photos of her and Matt, the desert, their time in Africa, pictures of Harry doing a keg stand when he had thrown a party before she came here. Eleanor sitting in the helicopter hatch, a big smile and a thumbs up that David had taken. A selfie of he and her in her room, one of them taken by Andy, David giving him the finger and Eleanor laughing. A photo of him in full gear, rifle across his chest, stern face, clenched jaw. A second later he had burst into laughter.

She wondered if her family would care. She thought that they might. Maybe not about him being enlisted, plus he would be a civilian by the time they met him, if they ever did. Would they care he was getting divorced and had a family? The media definitely would, but did she?

She blew out a breath and looked over at him. She remembered the conversation with Matt. She wasn't an idiot, but she knew Matt was wrong. David wasn't using her and if he was, it was for the same thing she was using him for. A connection, a feeling of home, companionship. Could that last on the outside, back at home with her back to her normal not normal life?

Eleanor went back to bed, squeezing in behind him, her arms around his waist, her cheek pressed against the broad plane of his back. David stirred again, rolling over so they were face to face, his sea blue eyes on her. He stretched, then pulled her back in close, wedging his knee between hers.

"What should I do?" He asked, his voice quiet. She was a bit surprised. He never asked her advice about his family situation. It was more that he just spoke about it as a release and she listened. She didn't know his wife, his children; she didn't feel comfortable saying anything. Her home life was far from perfect; what advice would she give?

"I...I think you should take them on holiday. Even if it's just at a hotel in the City." She suggested. "Maybe one with a pool?" David nodded, nuzzling into her neck.

"Can I see you before I leave?" His breath was hot on her skin, his lips soft. "Before I come back here to finish up?" His hand drifted to the hem of her shirt, dipping under and going straight for what he wanted, making her squirm.

"I'll...I'll be in Norfolk…" Eleanor replied breathlessly as his long fingers massaged her clit and then entered her. Her voice drifted off to a moan.

"Maybe I'll go on holiday in Norfolk." He smiled, adding another finger. She just moaned again, tight and wet, bucking up against his hand. "Sneak in the window of your castle and fuck you til you scream." He kissed her hard, pushing his hand further in.

"It's not a castle, but I could do with the rest." She said, voice ragged. She was quickly coming undone and he took her the rest of the way, her hand gripping at his wrist as she came.

* * *

"Matt's down with the flu." She was telling him as he extended the barbell over his head. He was flat on his back, and she was doing a poor job of spotting, leaning against a column, picking at her cuticle as she spoke. "They're pairing me up with some second lieutenant new on base."

"It's fine. You're a great pilot and it won't be too long until Matt's better." He heaved the weight up again, his words tight at the effort. She shrugged, unsure. A few more lifts and he put the barbell back. He sat up, grabbing his water from the floor.

"Come give me a bj in the locker room. That'll make you feel better." David grinned wide and she rolled her eyes, but was finally smiling.

"Such a tosser."

* * *

It wasn't fine. It was as far from fine as you could get. She ran a night operation with her temporary copilot and they were just coming back in as David and his team was packing to go out. It was chaos, the ground team Eleanor was providing support for barreling back through base at full speed. David knew it was bad when Lieutenant Wales threw her helmet across the airfield upon exiting the helo.

"And until you learn your ass from your elbow, you're off my crew!" She shouted at the second lieutenant. David didn't know the bloke's name and now he knew he would never have to. The copilot had been walking away from her, but when she said that he was off, he swung around, storming up to her. When the man started shouting back, all eyes went to them, David and the guys standing on edge.

"You can't do that!" The copilot yelled.

"I can and I will!" She was right in his face.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?!"

"I'm your commanding officer and you'll do well to remember that." Her voice had calmed, but David could tell she was boiling under the surface.

"It was a mistake!" The second lieutenant shot back. Then, he made an even bigger mistake. "You don't have to be such a fucking cunt." Then, to make it even worse, he shoved her. It wasn't hard, and it was more to get her out of his space, but he had still put his hands on her.

Andy and Mikey each sucked in a sharp breath. David took a step forward, but then thought better of it. She could handle it. And she did.

"You self righteous twat!" She shoved him back and then they tussled, the second lieutenant grabbing her.

"Are you sure you don't want to help your hen out, Sarge?" Andy asked.

"Nope." David replied, just as she kneed the copilot in the groin and walked away, the man groaning on his knees on the ground.

She grabbed her helmet as she walked by, David and his crew in a mixed state of awe and shock and a bit of arousal on David's part.


	13. Breakfast and Bombs

"What's the first thing you're going to do when you get home?" Eleanor asked David as they headed toward the track.

"First, big hugs for the kids, but then a hot shower with real water pressure." He replied, making her laugh. "After that, a huge brekkie, no matter the time of day."

"I'm going to enjoy sleeping in a big, comfortable bed." She said.

"That's one of mine too. Where my toes don't stick out of the blankets." He added.

"And I don't have to hear helos landing all day and night." She said.

"Are you going to miss being deployed?" David asked, sliding a glance to her.

"Probably a little." She replied, telling him about when she and Matt left Africa last summer. "It's an adjustment; my life at home is...bizarre." They made it to the track and he pushed open the gate for her. She went through, but stopped to look at him, the metal gate between them. "And of course I'll miss you." She smiled wide and he couldn't help but smile back.

"Telling tales again, Princess." David said, enjoying the side eye she gave him. He only ever used her title to tease her. "As soon as you get home, you'll forget all about me." He kept his tone light, but it had been nagging at him.

He had thought this would be a fling. They would have fun, mess around, provide a distraction for each other and go their separate ways with fond memories. Now, she was so far under his skin that he couldn't wait to see her, couldn't stand to leave her each night. She kept promising they would be together at home, but he just couldn't picture it. He had googled her, her family, and it just seemed impossible. He was a normal bloke from Scotland, barely middle class, not a posh ancestor as far as his family tree went.

Every time he mentioned it, she shot him down. She didn't care, she wasn't like that, they could try, and on and on until she distracted him with a kiss or a touch or a funny story. So he had given up and just decided to focus on finishing his tour and settling things at home. He hadn't decided what to do with the kids at Christmas, but after his anger faded, he called home a few more times, coming to a decision. Vicki was on board and it seemed like everything would be handled amicably.

"You know that's not true." Eleanor insisted, pulling him out of his thoughts. She was looking up at him, her eyes so light in the bright sun, a hint of a frown on her face. "Plus, you promised me a date. I'm going to hold you to it." Her smile was back, not as bright as before, and she moved away to stretch.

* * *

When David and his platoon entered the command building Eleanor was already there, storming past them and out the door they had just come through. She was in full gear, as they were, and everyone turned to watch her go. David frowned and pulled out his mobile to text her as Andy took the rest of the crew inside.

_I'm paired with that fucker again._ Came her reply as he joined the crew in the briefing room. Sure enough, the second lieutenant from a few weeks ago was there, arms crossed over his chest, a smug look on his face. David put his phone away to concentrate on the briefing, but text after text was coming through, vibrating his pocket as she lost her mind.

As they walked to the airfield, he read them, thinking he wouldn't be able to talk with her.

_Some primary school bollocks about getting along._

_Major says it's unprofessional and I can't choose my crew._

_I bet he's related to the major._

_I'm going to push him out of the helo if he fucks up._

It was almost comical except he knew she was insanely angry. He texted her back that it would be fine. She was a professional and could handle it. It was a simple op and they would be back on base in no time.

David spotted her at the Lynx, stomping around, doing her preflight. She was flying his support, so he chanced a conversation, leaving Andy and the crew to pack up the trucks.

"Keep doing what you're doing." He said, approaching. She faltered for a minute, eyes on him, but the airfield was crowded, so she quickly put on a blank face and continued her checklist. He was a good distance away and made a pretense of bending to tie his boot. "Focus on the op. Keep his tasks to a minimum. Everything will be fine and in five days, we're out of here. Okay, love?"

She looked his way as he stood. He winked, enjoying the way her cheeks flushed, "O...Okay." She mumbled, flustered, and he chuckled, walking away.

* * *

"Ground team, this is Lynx. You're in the clear." Eleanor's voice filled their helmets, the armored vehicles bouncing along in the sand.

"Copy Lynx, see you back on base." David replied in his deep rolling accent. The helicopter flew overhead, turning to the left, two Apaches flanking. A beat later, the night sky lit up, missiles coming out of nowhere. The three helos were rapidly moving away from them, but the Apache furthest back was hit, flames filling the sky. It was chaos then, fire everywhere, the crews shouting. David ordered the op abandoned and Ron turned the truck around, heading back. Another missile flew overhead, but missed. The damaged Apache was quickly failing, losing altitude, ultimately falling.

David's heart was pounding, his ears ringing from all the yelling over the comms.

"Sarge, enemy on our six." Andy told him, David turning to see behind them. Headlights were quickly approaching. The other Apache and the Lynx circled back, Eleanor landing to pick up the crew of the damaged helicopter and the Apache providing cover fire.

"Go to the helos." David ordered, struggling to remain calm. His gloved hands gripped his rifle, he was sweating, jaw clenched.

The sound of gunfire filled the air, another missile flew past them. The armored trucks could take multiple rounds and even a few missiles. They were also lower to the ground than the grounded helicopters, moving at high speed away from the enemy while the helicopters were sitting ducks. David clicked through the channels, finally finding her.

"We've got them. Apache one, cover us for takeoff." He exhaled and they arrived as the Apache swung around, making another pass at the enemy. He ordered his platoon to fire on the enemy as well. She got the helicopter in the air, but a spray of bullets hit the belly. She yelled through the radio for the second lieutenant to fire.

"Keep firing!" David yelled, looking behind him as the Lynx wobbled, not going further airborne. Then, everything went blindingly white. He was dizzy, hot, and it all went black as screams filled the radios.


	14. Expectations and Explanations

Eleanor woke to darkness. She was still, letting her eyes adjust, her ears listen for any sounds. It was cold, quiet except for a rhythmic beeping. She turned her head in that direction, a wave of pain behind her eyes at the movement. A heart monitor was on a stand next to her. She was in hospital. She exhaled and let the darkness wash over her once more.

The next time she woke, it was day, the sun too bright for her eyes. She narrowed them against the sun, and looked around. She was in a private room, so it wasn't the base infirmary with it's curtains hanging between each bed. She was alone and it was still quiet, just the beeping of the monitor.

It didn't hurt as much to move, so she tried to sit up, immediately encountering resistance when she moved her arms to prop herself up. Her left arm in a cast from her wrist to above her elbow. Her right arm was fine, so she sat up, regretting it as a sharp pain shot through her head. She did it though, and was able to see out of the small window in the door. People moved about out there, she assumed nurses and physicians.

She looked around the room. It was spacious, filled with flowers, the curtains drawn so she couldn't see outside to tell where she was. She was thinking of trying to stand when the door handle turned, so she stayed still instead.

A nurse walked in, jumping in surprise when she saw Eleanor was awake and sitting up.

"Your royal highness!" The woman exclaimed. A British accent. She was home.

* * *

"I'm sorry, your royal highness." The physician replied to Eleanor's query about the others. About David. "You were sent here directly from Afghanistan, by command of your family." He went on, saying that this was a private hospital, no military affiliation. They had no idea about the others.

"I came alone?" She asked, and the doctor nodded. He did add that various mates and family members had been in and out of her room the entire time, but she hadn't been lucid enough to know. He went on, listing her injuries, a shattered humerus from the crash that had required surgery, a major concussion and many bumps and bruises.

He was kind and optimistic, saying she could go home in a short while now that she was awake.

"You've been here long enough." He smiled, moving toward the door. She asked him the date, not having a clue.

"January fourth." He replied, leaving.

* * *

"Poppet?" Her dad tried again, getting her attention this time. "Are you okay? You seem far away." Eleanor turned from the window to look at her dad, his blue eyes kind.

She hadn't realized he was there. It had been a few days since she woke, but she was still tired all the time, dizzy often, and drifted away, thinking about the desert and David. She asked everyone about him; her father, her brothers, her aunts and uncles. Harry promised to find out. She didn't know his address and his number was in her phone with her things that had been sent to her rooms at Clarence House, but Harry said he would call Peters and see.

"The sergeant; who is he?" Charles asked, coming to sit on her bed, smoothing his starched shirt.

"He's...he's David." She said without elaborating.

"What's his expectation?" Charles asked. Eleanor was confused, and said as much. Charles clarified, so she went on.

"There's no expectation, pop." She replied. "He's coming home, finding a job. We want to see each other."

"Have you promised him anything?" Charles went on. Eleanor's eyes narrowed.

"Not everyone is out to get ahead."

"Eleanor, I know you're smarter than that." The prince said, softening his tone for the harshness of his words. "This bloke is enlisted, you're his superior. This could be a real problem."

"I'm not…I wasn't his superior; we weren't in the same command line." Eleanor said, her voice quiet. If David being enlisted bothered her father, there was no way she was telling him anything else. He wouldn't understand the situation. She just sat instead, answering a few more questions quietly and with as little information as possible.

Finally, after an eternity, her dad stood, kissed her cheek, and left.

* * *

Harry came into her room the next morning, sitting on her bed. She pulled up her knees, looking at her brother. They had always been thick as thieves, so she knew from the expression on his face that something was going on.

"Just come out with it." Eleanor snapped, her blood rushing in her ears.

"He's in hospital in Germany." Harry was never one to mince words, but he still hesitated. "They won't release any information, but he's badly injured."

"And his platoon?" She asked quietly, voice shaking.

"I didn't ask." Harry replied. He reached out to take her hand, careful of her cast. "Els, they checked him out." Harry told her, looking at her, mouth in a tight line. "He's been lying to you." She didn't say anything, knowing he would continue. "He's married."

"He didn't lie. I know he's married." She said, exhaling, relieved. She explained the situation, but Harry wasn't convinced.

"Eleanor-."

"No." She was firm. "He's not using me. He...well I don't know how he feels exactly, but I know he's not using me and I don't know if it's love or...or what, but we agreed to see each other when he came home." She went on, repeating how David wasn't re-upping, he was going civvy and getting a job. He was getting a divorce, the divorce his wife had been asking for. They didn't have any expectations of each other except to try.

"He's been in the army for ten years. You're a fucking princess. There's no way he's not using you."

"I know how it looks, but I _know _he's not using me." She insisted. Harry frowned, but she was sure. "I just...I can't explain it, I just know."

Harry told her a story about when he was deployed for the first time. About how there were so little women on base that eleven men in the same platoon got an sti because they all slept with one woman.

"The ugliest hens are beauty queens in the desert, Els."

"I slept with one man and I know you're not insulting my looks." She knew he meant well; they all meant well, but what she said was true. She knew, deep down, that David wasn't using her. In fact, she had tried to help him and she told Harry that; about how she offered a solicitor, offered to talk to someone about a job, offered to get him a spot to become an officer.

"He said no to all of it." She said. "Can we get him here? I'll pay for it myself." She didn't know what else to do. She knew they wouldn't let her go to him.

Harry shook his head. "He's...it's too serious to move him."

Eleanor felt that familiar burning in her throat as tears pricked at her eyes. She looked away and Harry moved up on the bed to put his arm around her. They watched telly in silence until she fell asleep.


	15. Death and Despair

She was released from hospital and went home. Everyone came to visit and she was exhausted so finally begged off, going upstairs. Her things had been sent from Helmand, but were still in a box off to the side of the sitting area. She didn't care about them, just her mobile, which she found with her military id and dog tags on her dresser. The phone was dead, so she plugged it in and went to take a shower.

She was annoyed, having to wrap up her arm in a bin bag to keep the cast dry, but the hot spray was well worth the trouble. David was all she could think about since Harry had told her. She was convinced he was fine. He had to be.

She kept replaying that night over and over. She couldn't place him in the events that had occurred. She had been too focused on the downed Apache crew and getting back in the air. They had taken fire and the Lynx had gone down. She didn't remember hitting her head and she didn't remember anything about her rescue. She could remember that she heard his voice, his yelling, but that was it. She closed her eyes and could still hear it; him yelling at his crew to fire.

Eleanor stayed in the shower, her forehead on the marble, until the water went cold. Then, she wrapped up in a towel and went back to her cell. She went through all the missed calls and texts, but obviously nothing from David. Matt, her mates, relatives, but not the one she really wanted.

She rang him, knowing he wouldn't answer, but needing to hear his voice, even if it was just the voicemail message. It went straight to the mailbox. She hadn't planned on leaving a message, and sure enough when she heard his gravelly voice asking her to leave a message, she froze, hanging up.

As she had told David, everyone was in Norfolk for Christmas, but they had come back to the city for her. Not willing to leave her alone, but not wanting to stay in town, her father made her go back with them. They took the train and she was installed in a guest room at William and Kate's country house.

Trying to stay upbeat, she went over to the big house for tea with her grandparents. She liked being with them, talking about other family members and hearing old stories. After she got the all clear, she ran a lot, bundled up for the cold, following the winding paths on the estate. Granddad took her out on his carriage, she took George out on his little pony.

* * *

Harry was on the front steps at William and Kate's when she got back from a slow four miles. Her head hurt when she pushed too hard. She pulled out her earbuds, wrapping the cord around her mobile.

"What's up?" She asked, out of breath, despite the slowness of her run. Harry just stood there, but then suggested that they go inside. His tone and look gave him away immediately. "What's wrong?" She asked, not moving from the gravel drive.

"Ellie, please. It's cold."

"No. Tell me."

"The...they called me...from Germany." Harry's words came out ragged. Eleanor was frozen, her heart pounding so loudly in her head that she didn't hear the rest of his words.

"Is he…" she couldn't say it. Harry couldn't either, simply nodding and then reaching for her. Eleanor started shaking her head, repeating the word no, over and over as he pulled at her, supporting her weight and dragging her into the house. He easily overpowered her, pulling her to the sofa, where she clutched at him, mumbling things that were unintelligible.

"He...he can't be gone." She said, gripping Harry's arms. "I would know it."

* * *

She was still sitting frozen on the sofa, still in her running kit, when William and Kate came home. Harry spoke quietly with them and Kate came up to her.

"Maybe a shower will-" her sister-in-law tried, but Eleanor interrupted.

"Did any of them make it?" She asked, big watery eyes landing on Harry, who replied that there were four additional casualties, two more were still in hospital and two had been sent home. "Did they bring...bring his...him home?" She asked after a long stretch of quiet. Harry's eyes went to William, who was standing by the fireplace. William nodded, almost imperceptibly, but Harry still hesitated. "I won't go, I just-" Eleanor paused, taking a deep breath, her voice shaking. "I just want to make sure he's not still there. That he's not alone."

Harry looked out the window, fists clenched. William came closer. "They took his body to Scotland."

* * *

Days turned into weeks and she retreated further and further away from everyone. She felt badly for his children; so small to have lost their father. The families of the other men; Andy, Mikey and Ron. Even Vicki.

They had barely spoken of the woman, just that David knew it was his fault as much as hers, they had grown apart, meeting so young and him not willing or able to go civvy. Eleanor wondered if she felt guilty. David cheated too, and maybe Vicki knew that, or just assumed, but for him to die in combat whilst she was living with another man…

Everyone in the family took turns trying to get her up and about. She refused, holed up in the guest room at Anmer, mostly staying in bed, surviving on scotch and the occasional bowl of cereal Kate forced on her. Harry tried, even her uncle and aunts on the Spencer side. Her best mates came out, her cousins. No one could get to her. She didn't answer her phone, eventually it went dead. She didn't show any emotion, or even speak to anyone.

She finally broke when the Cambridges left to go back to Wales, William trying to yell her into going with them.

"If you don't get ready and pack up, I'll have the staff come in and do it." He came in, blue eyes surveying the mess; empty bottles and bowls. The staff had been told not to bother the Princess. "Do you want them to see you like this?" She just ignored him.

"Eleanor, it's been six weeks. He's gone."

That got a reaction and she sat up. "Don't you think I know that?" She asked. She knew the exact length of time it had been, down to the hour. The last time they had spoken, the last time they had seen each other, the last time they had touched.

"You can't just stay here. You've got to move on. Live your life. He would want-"

"Fuck you, William." She cut him off. She didn't yell; her voice deathly calm. "You didn't know him. Don't presume to tell me what he would and wouldn't want for me. I'm not going to Wales with you and your perfect family."

William knew better than to keep trying. His sister was just like his brother. Stubborn and dug in, intent on whatever they wanted no matter the consequences or the harm to themselves. He left, packing the family up to Wales.

The house was empty except for her and the staff. Her mates eventually gave up and the staff ignored her. She was completely alone, like a character in a Victorian novel, drinking herself into a stupor so the nightmares wouldn't come each night.

Six weeks later, the family took action. Her stepmother bustled in, throwing open the curtains, pulling off the blankets.

"Come on, up and out." Camilla insisted, leaving Eleanor no choice but to sit up. Her hair was a wild mess, dark circles under her eyes, skinny and paler than normal. She just stared as Camilla flitted around, her eyes following her stepmother. Room tidy, the late spring sun shining in, the older woman came and sat next to Eleanor in the bed.

"Would you like to talk with me about him?" Camilla asked kindly. Eleanor just shook her head. "Your father and brothers want to send you away." She didn't even shake her head at that. She didn't care. Let them send her away. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered.


	16. Shock and Spectacle

_May 2016_

There was a slight dampness to the grass, but the sun was shining. Eleanor smiled as she stepped out of the double doors to stand in line with her family members. Her uncle Edward started his speech and she made sure to smile. All smiles as the crowd clapped politely. She mingled, careful of her heels in the grass, listening as her secretary led her around to the guests. A few other family members were there and they split the attendees into queues so everyone would have a chance to meet the royals.

"Of course, that was-" Eleanor was speaking with a guest when two children raced by. The younger, a boy with brown hair, bumped into her. They stopped short, the older child admonishing him.

"Say you're sorry." The little girl scolded, blond plaits hanging down her back. Eleanor turned toward them, smiling so the little boy knew he wasn't in trouble, and the little boy mumbled an apology. They were off again before Eleanor could reply, a blur of pig tails, tulle and the boy's tiny necktie.

As she watched them go, something about the children was so familiar to her. She excused herself to get a better look spotting them across the lawn weaving through a group of adults. She was about to move toward them when Beatrice stopped her with a question.

"I don't know Bea." Eleanor quickly replied, annoyed, but when she went to move on, she couldn't find them again. Sighing, she turned back to her cousin and answered her question more patiently.

Eleanor was able to find them again after she drifted over to the bouncy castle that was set up at the far end of the lawn. The garden party was almost over, but the queue for the castle was long, many children wanting a turn. The two from before bounced out, and Eleanor watched as they raced toward a blonde woman, grabbing her hands.

Eleanor inhaled a sharp breath. It was her. It was them. The combination of her and the children and it was unmistakable. David's children; his widow. She cursed Harry for being too hungover for the party. This was his idea; a garden party for military families, widows and wounded veterans. He had begged off, pleading with her to take his place and she had done it for him, wrangling Bea, Eug and Edward.

It had been over a year and she was fine. She had pushed him to the very farthest recesses of her brain, ignoring the fact that her breath caught whenever she heard a Scottish accent. She used to see his eyes every time she closed hers, the crinkles in the corners when he smiled. That had gradually faded, as did the feeling of his touch. She hadn't looked at the pictures from her deployment, the photos of their time together, since five days before Christmas, when it had been one year since the attack.

That day, she had stayed in bed, a crying mess, finally falling asleep with her mobile open to a picture of his face. Now, five months on, she was okay again. Focused on her duties, her family, her life. Moving on, like William had said. They let her pick her patronages, the causes she wanted to side with, and she had avoided most of the military related ones. She focused on women's issues; equality, abuse and addiction.

A deep breath, Eleanor made her way to the little trio. The children seemed happy and vibrant, very energetic, but they stopped as she approached, the little girl peering up at her, the little boy squeezing his mother's hand. They had David's eyes; blue like the sea, and Eleanor almost walked past them, her breath catching, heart racing. She easily remembered their names; Charlie like her father and Ella, so similar to Ellie.

Vicki curtsied, eyes wide, but Eleanor extended her hand for a shake, introducing herself and getting confirmation that she wasn't hallucinating. The children hovered, still looking up at Eleanor.

"I…" Eleanor started, swallowing. She didn't know what to say, what to do. What what she thinking, approaching this woman? It was too late to turn away as people were watching, so she swallowed again, standing straighter and putting her other hand over Vicki's. Then, she let go and launched right in. Best get it over with, go home and get pissed.

"I served with...with your husband in Helmand." Eleanor said. Vicki looked at her, confused. A bit of wind rustled both of their hats. "It was only a short while, but I wanted to tell you how sorry I am that he...about what happened." Eleanor adjusted, not able to fully say it.

"Thank...thank you, your royal highness." Vicki replied, still gobsmacked. "I heard you were there around the same time, but-" She stopped when Ella's face split into a grin and she ran off in the direction behind Eleanor. Charlie went too, and Vicki's eyes followed them.

"Daddy!" They squealed and her heart sank. David had been right about the other man that he had ranted and raved about all that time ago. They were living as a happy family, going to garden parties at the palace and having a grand time. She took a shaky breath, steeling herself to turn and see who this man was that had replaced him.

Eleanor felt dizzy. He was still a bit away, the children pulling him along, but it was undeniably him. He was all buttoned up in his dress uniform. Shiny shoes, insignia gleaming, hat over his dark hair. She didn't understand what was happening. He was staring at her, indigo eyes completely focused on her face. He was here. He was alive.


	17. Hope and Happiness

David was returning from the loo when the kids ran up. They pulled him toward Vicki, shouting excitedly despite the fact he had only been gone for ten minutes. When he spotted Vicki, he stopped walking. He knew it was Eleanor she was talking to; he had seen her off to the side as the Earl of Wessex delivered his speech. He had watched as she mingled in the crowd and had purposely steered their group toward her cousin's queue hoping to avoid her.

As she turned, he felt hot, sweaty, his heart pounding. She was taller than he remembered, possibly due to her heels and ridiculous feathered hat. She was in a pretty dress and a face full of makeup and she didn't look at all like the woman he remembered. He just stood there, staring, until Vicki spoke.

"The Princess was just saying that you served together, Dave." David was knocked out of his stupor. The kids ran off toward the guy making twisty balloons.

"We...we did." He stammered. He rubbed his hands together, nervous, and noticed that Eleanor had her hand clasped so tightly in front of her that her knuckles were white. She was just looking at him from under her hat, her eyes wide, lips in a firm line. Then, like a switch had been flipped, she straightened up, unclenched her hands and extended one to Vicki. He recognized her demeanor, her professional mask. She had it on ops, in the cockpit and on the airfield, and now here, at a fucking garden party

"I best be off." She said, voice sharp and clipped. "It was a pleasure to finally meet you, Mrs. Budd." She turned toward him, but didn't reach out. "Your family is beautiful, Sergeant." Her eyes had been on him, but immediately slid away as she spoke, her voice shaking at the end.

He almost cracked when she called him that. It brought him right back to the desert and he almost reached for her. He wanted to grab her, drag her behind the bouncy castle and ask why she never rang him, ask how she could forget him. He wanted to yell that he told her so. That he had been right about her.

There were hundreds of people around; his family and hers, so instead he just nodded, jaw clenched, posture tight. She nodded as well, the feathers in her wide hat bobbing, and then she was gone. Vicki started talking as Eleanor made her way back to the palace, walking up to a giant of a man who led her away with his hand at her back. The kids returned with balloons and big smiles and David pretended to be fine once again.

David was surprised later that night by a knock at the door. Opening it a crack, the giant of a protection officer was there, Eleanor barely visible off to the side. She stepped forward, dressed in jeans, loose jumper, trainers. Her hair was in a messy pony and she looked more like herself.

"I'm sorry to come unannounced, but I needed to talk with you." She said, that same clipped accent, all business as if he was a stranger. "I'd like to speak privately with you, so if you wouldn't mind?" She stepped back and he realized dimly that she wanted him to come with her. He looked down the alley where a blacked out Range Rover was parked.

"I'm alone." He replied, moving away from her, further into the entryway. Eleanor looked at him, confused.

"Where's your family?" She asked. It was late and there was school tomorrow. She didn't know much about children, but she reasoned that they should be sleeping.

"I split time with the kids with Vicki." David replied.

"But they…at the party-" Eleanor pressed.

"I was invited with my family." David interrupted, impatient. "We're divorced, but they're still my family." Anger was his default, but he was more than angry. He was mad she was here, asking him questions, demanding he go with her. She knew his address but couldn't fucking ring him for over a year? He crossed his arms over his chest and she frowned. They were at a standoff.

Finally, the protection officer sighed, tired of standing outside. David moved another step back, allowing them into his flat. He would listen to her and then she could go back to her life, back to her palace, her magazine covers and smart clothes. He would hear her out and then lock the door behind her, have a beer or two or three and try to forget her again.

Eleanor stood in the entry, looking at him, her beautiful eyes wide, face sad. David swallowed hard, his throat burning, dragging his eyes away from her. He went to get a beer out of the refrigerator and heard the front door open and close as the officer left. Eleanor had drifted toward the living area. She sat on the sofa, fidgeting, wringing her hands, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, messing with the sleeve of her jumper that covered her wrist.

"Just say what you came to say." David said, picking at the label on his beer.

"They...they told me you died." She said quietly. He frowned, eyes narrowing. That wasn't what he thought she was going to say.

"You believed them?" It was the first thing he thought of, said it before he even realized and harsher than he had wanted. She visibly flinched, hurt at his words.

David stood, not understanding. That definitely explained why she hadn't contacted him, but who had orchestrated it and why? Her family, to keep them apart? And why had she believed them? He ran a hand through his hair, unable to speak.

"They had a full report. Pictures of...your body." She looked down at her hands clenched in her lap, but then looked over at him where he was at the big window, eyes rimmed in red at the memory. "I saw the photos. I _have_ the photos. Your tattoo, your face!" She stood too, agitated, pacing in the small space between the sofa and the television. "When I woke up, I asked about you, but the doctor didn't know. Then, Harry said you were severely injured and that you...you died." She said, voice small. "That's when I made them show me the photos."

He blew out a breath. He didn't want to relive the failed op. He had pushed it away, focused on his new job, trying to get his life back, to forget about her and his entire army career.

"I _was _injured." He finally replied, walking back to the kitchen for another beer. He took his time, dithering getting the bottle out, opening the bottle, tossing the cap in the sink. He came back to sit, and she did as well, but at the other end. This was all so much. Too much.

He frowned, took a drink, rubbed at the back of his neck. He didn't want to talk about it, remember it, but here with her, he couldn't help it. She brought him right back to it, the good memories and the bad.

"I called you." He said, holding the beer bottle between his legs. She had been looking down at an invisible speck of something on her trouser leg, but at his admission, her head snapped up, eyes wide.

"When?" It wasn't an accusation, her voice was soft. He told her the exact dates. He had rung her twice, left two voicemails, and he remembered exactly. It was when he had returned home from hospital in Germany and they had sent him to a physio rehab facility in Scotland, close to his mum.

"That's...they said you were buried in Scotland." She said. He was watching her, all the emotions passing over her face. "When you called, that's when...when they sent me away. You're not the only one that was angry and fucked up." She said, eyes pleading, watching as he stalked back and forth in front of the couch.

David stopped. He was so mad at her, at himself, at everyone and everything. Mad even that he was so angry with her for so long. That he had given up on her; on them.

"I'm...I'm not the person I was, El." He finally admitted. He continued speaking, her wide eyes searching his. "I am fucked up and...damaged. We...we can't...we shouldn't be together." His heart was breaking all over again, but he had to say it. He had to warn her. He couldn't be with her, it would just end in disappointment and sadness.

She stood, approaching him, and he knew he was in for it. He recognized the look on her face immediately. Stubborn, willful, determined.

"You're wrong." She started, crossing her arms. "Your eyes that remind me of the sea? They're the same. You're heart? The same. You've still the same man I fell in love with."

David's head snapped up at her admission and he just stared at her, his breath hitching, his heart racing. He shook his head. She was the one who was wrong. "You won't love me when you see...when you see how I am now." His voice was thick with emotion, his accent pronounced.

"I will." Eleanor insisted. "I do." She stepped toward him, but didn't touch him. "I've seen the damage the war did to you. It did the same to me." She pushed up her jumper sleeve and turned her arm toward him, an angry red scar running from her forearm to halfway up her bicep. She let her sleeve fall, and stepped closer. "Parts of me are different now, but deep down, I'm the same and so are you. I won't accept that you're not the same brave, kind man I knew. You can't say you're giving up on us." She was crying, but trying not to, lecturing him despite herself.

"Els-" He tried, reaching out for her, but she was determined and went on, talking over him.

"You can't say we shouldn't try. Why would we see each other again after all this time if there wasn't something more for us? I wasn't supposed to be at that goddamn party! I won't accept it!" She ranted, eyes blazing, chest heaving, wiping her tears away. "I won't! And I won't let you either!"

"You have to, Eleanor!" He shouted back, finally having enough. She was wrong; there wasn't any hope and the sooner she realized, the easier it would be to move on. "You have to let me go!" She flinched at his shout; the use of her full name, but then she did the exact opposite of what he thought. She stepped forward instead of back. Closer to him. She was in his space, so close, quietly standing in front of him.

"Tell me that you still don't think about me. About us." She whispered it. "Tell me and I'll go. You'll never see me again." She reached for him, her hand going to the crook of his neck. "Tell me." She repeated, overwhelming him, her face inches away. She said it again, her lips ghosting his and he gave in. He couldn't tell her. He couldn't lie, not to her, and he knew she was right. There was still a connection, an energy.

So, he pulled her close, his lips going to hers. He swore she sighed, her hands going to his waist. She was pressed against him, warm and soft and familiar, a sense of calm flowing through him when they kissed, like there was nothing in the world but them. She was the missing piece that he was agitated and anxious without this whole time. Now, kissing her, holding her, it was all gone. The pain and sadness and anger was eclipsed by the feel of her. He could only remember the peaceful times, the laughter and dirty jokes, whiskey and pickle juice rather than hospitals and fire, burns and guns.

He had been angry that she had come here and he thought his cruelty would push her away, but he had forgotten how willful she was. How insightful and how she was determined to get her way. So, he gave in and let her win. Maybe she wouldn't be the only one who won. Maybe she could be his link back. Back to himself, back to humanity, back to happiness. If she had so much hope, maybe she had enough for both of them. All he knew was that he finally felt calm, peaceful and whole, rather than anxious and broken, and he was willing to try. With her.

_Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading, reviewing and bookmarking! i hope you enjoyed the story :)_


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